UNIT.  OF  CALIF.  LIBRARY. 


Silence  !  "   thundered  the  Padre,  livid  with  rage.       "  I  will  compass 
heaven  and  earth  rather  than  that  you  should  escape  me." 

Inez — Page  138 


THE    WORKS    OF 

AUGUSTA  EVANS  WILSON 

IN    EIGHT     VOLUMES 


INEZ 

A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO 


NEW  YORK  AND  LONDON 

THE  CO-OPERATIVE  PUBLICATION  SOCIETY 
6 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1855 
Bv  HARPER  &  BROS. 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Southern 
District  of  New  York 

Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1871 

BY  GEORGE  W.  CARLETON  &  CO. 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington,  D.  C. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1887 

BY  G    W.  DILLINGHAM 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington,  D.  C. 


TO 

THE  TEXAN  PATRIOTS, 

WHO    TRIUMPHANTLY    UNFURLED    AND   WAVED   ALOF? 
THE    "  BANNER    OF    THE    LONE    STAR  !" 

THIS  WORK  IS  RESPECTFULLY  DEDICATED 

BY    THE   AUTHOR. 


Vo1- 


A-Evans 


2130474 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO, 


CHAPTER  I. 

"  But  O,  th'  important  budget ! 
Who  can  say  what  are  its  tidings  ?" 

— Cowper. 

"  THERE  is  the  bell  for  prayers,  Florry;  are  you 
ready  ?"  said  Mary  Irving,  hastily  entering  hei 
cousin's  room  at  the  large  boarding-school  of  Ma- 
dame   . 

"  Yes ;  I  rose  earlier  than  usual  this  morning, 
have  solved  two  problems,  and  translated  nearly  half 
a  page  of  T61e"maque." 

"  I  congratulate  you  on  your  increased  industry 
and  application,  though  you  were  always  more 
studious  than  myself.  I  wish,  dear  Florry,  you  could 
imbue  me  with  some  of  your  fondness  for  metaphy- 
sics and  mathematics,"  Mary  replied,  with  a  low 
sigh. 

A  momentary  flush  passed  over  the  face  of  her 

[51 


6  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

companion,  and  they  descended  the  stairs  in  silence. 
The  room  in  which  the  pupils  were  accustomed  to 
assemble  for  devotion  was  not  so  spacious  as  the 
class-room,  yet  sufficiently  so  to  look  gloomy  enough 
in  the  gray  light  of  a  drizzling  morn.  The  floor  was 
covered  with  a  faded  carpet,  in  which  the  indistinct 
vine  seemed  struggling  to  reach  the  wall,  but  failed 
by  several  feet  on  either  side.  As  if  to  conceal  this 
deficiency,  a  wide  seat  was  affixed  the  entire  length 
of  the  room,  so  high 

"  That  the  feet  hung  dangling  down, 
Anxious  in  vain  to  find  the  distant  floor." 

There  were  no  curtains  to  the  windows,  and  the  rain 
pattered  drearily  down  the  panes. 

The  teacher  who  officiated  as  chaplain  was  seated 
before  a  large  desk,  on  which  lay  an  open  Bible. 
He  seemed  about  twenty-four,  his  countenance  noble 
rather  than  handsome,  if  I  may  make  so  delicate  a 
distinction.  Intelligence  of  the  first  order  was 
stamped  upon  it,  yet  the  characteristic  expression 
was  pride  which  sat  enthroned  on  his  prominent 
brow;  still,  hours  of  care  had  left  their  impress,  and 
the  face  was  very  grave,  though  by  no  means  stern. 
His  eye  was  fixed  on  the  door  as  the  pupils  came  in, 
one  by  one,  for  prayers,  and  when  Florence  and 
Mary  entered,  it  sunk  upon  his  book.  In  a  few  mo- 
ments he  rose,  and,  standing  with  one  arm  folded 
across  his  bosom,  read  in  a  deep,  distinct  tone,  that 
beautiful  Psalm,  "  The  Lord  is  my  shepherd."  He 
had  only  reached  the  fourth  verse,  when  he  was  in- 


INEZ  ;  A    TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  f 

t«mipted  by  two  girls  of  twelve  or  fourteen,  who  had 
been  conversing  from  the  moment  of  their  entrance. 
The  tones  grew  louder  and  louder,  and  now  the 
words  were  very  audible:  . 

"  My  father  did  not  send  me  here  to  come  to 
prayers,  and  Madame  has  no  right  to  make  us  get 
up  before  day  to  hear  him  read  his  Bible  !" 

Many  who  coincided  with  them  tittered,  others 
stared  in  silence,  while  Florence's  lip  curled,  and 
Mary  looked  sorrowingly,  pityingly  upon  them — hers 
was  the  expression  with  which  the  angel  multitudes 
of  Heaven  regard  their  erring  brethren  here.  The 
chaplain  turned  toward  them,  and  said,  in  a  grave 
yet  gentle  voice,  "  My  little  friends,  I  am  afraid  you 
did  not  kneel  beside  your  bed  this  morning,  and  ask 
God  to  keep  your  hearts  from  sinful  thoughts,  and 
enable  you  to  perform  all  your  duties  in  an  humble, 
gentle  spirit.  In  your  present  temper,  were  I  to  read 
the  entire  book  instead  of  one  Psalm,  I  fear  you 
would  receive  no  benefit." 

The  girls  were  awed  more  by  the  tone  than  words, 
and  sat  silent  and  abashed.  The  reading  was  con- 
cluded, and  then  he  offered  lip  a  prayer  earnest  and 
heart-felt.  Instead  of  leaving  the  room  immediately, 
the  pupils  waited  as  for  something,  and  taking  a 
bundle  of  letters  from  the  desk,  their  tutor  distribu- 
ted them  as  the  directions  indicated.  "  My  budget 
is  not  so  large  as  usual,  and  I  regret  it  for  your  sakes, 
as  I  fear  some  are  disappointed.  Miss  Hamilton, 
here  are  two  for  you;"  and  he  handed  them  to  her 
without  looking  up. 


8  INEZ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

"  Two  for  Florry,  and  none  for  me  ?"  asked  Mary, 
while  her  voice  slightly  trembled.  He  was  leaving 
the  room,  but  turned  toward  her. 

"  I  am  .very  sorry,  Miss  Mary,  but  hope  you  will 
find  a  comforting  message  in  your  cousin's." 

Gently  he  spoke,  yet  his  eyes  rested  on  Florence 
the  while,  and,  with  a  suppressed  sigh,  he  passed 
on. 

"  Come  to  my  room,  Mary;  it  is  strange  the 
letters  are  post-marked  the  same  day."  And  while 
she  solves  the  mystery,  let  us  glance  at  her  former 
history. 


CHAPTER  II. 

"  Calm  on  the  bosom  of  thy  God, 

Fair  spirit  t  rest  thee  now ! 
Ev'n  while  with  us  thy  footsteps  trod, 
His  seal  was  on  thy  brow." 

— Hemans. 

FLORENCE  HAMILTON  had  not  attained  her  fourth 
year  when  she  was  left  the  only  solace  of  her 
widowed  father.  Even  after  the  lapse  of  long  years, 
faint,  yet  sweet  recollections  of  her  last  parent  stole, 
in  saddened  hours,  over  her  spirit,  and  often,  in 
dreams,  a  face  of  angelic  beauty  hovered  around 
and  smiled  upon  her. 

Unfortunately,  Florence  proved  totally  unlike  her 
sainted  mother,  both  in  personal   appearance   and 


INEZ  :  A  TALE   OF  THE   ALAMO.  £ 

cast  of  character.  Mr.  Hamilton  was  a  cold,  proud 
man  of  the  world ;  one  who,  having  lived  from  his 
birth  in  affluence,  regarded  with  a  haughty  eye  all 
who,  without  the  advantages  of  rank  or  wealth,  strove 
to  attain  a  position  equal  to  his  own.  Intelligence, 
nobility  of  soul,  unsullied  character,  weighed  not  an 
atom  against  the  counterpoise  of  birth  and  family. 
He  enjoyed  in  youth  advantages  rare  for  the  unset- 
tled times  in  which  he  lived ;  he  tasted  all  that  France 
and  Italy  could  offer ;  and  returned  blase  at  twenty- 
seven  to  his  home  in  one  of  the  Southern  States. 
Attracted  by  the  brilliant  fortune  of  an  orphan 
heiress,  he  won  and  married  her;  but  love,  such  as 
her  pure,  gentle  spirit  sought,  dwelt  not  in'his  stern, 
selfish  heart.  All  of  affection  he  had  to  bestow  was 
lavished  on  his  only  sister,  who  had  married  during 
his  absence. 

His  angel  wife  drooped  in  the  sterile  soil  to  which 
she  was  transplanted,  and,  when  Florence  was  about 
four  years  old,  sunk  into  a  quiet  grave. 

Perhaps  when  he  stood  v.ith  his  infant  daughter 
beside  the  newly- raised  mound,  and  missed  the 
gentle  being  who  had  endeavored  so  strenuously  to 
make  his  home  happy,  and  to  win  for  herself  a  place 
in  his  heart,  one  tear  might  have  moistened  the  cold, 
searching  eyes  that  for  years  had  known  no  such 
softening  tendency.  "  Perhaps,"  I  say;  but  to  con- 
jecture of  thee,  oh  Man !  is  fruitless  indeed. 

As  well  as  such  a  nature  could,  he  loved  his  child, 
and  considered  himself  extremely  magnanimous  in 
casting  aside  all  thought  of  a  second  marriage,  and 


IO  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

devoting  his  leisure  moments  to  the  formation  of  her 
character  and  direction  of  her  education. 

Florence  inherited  her  father's  haughty  tempera- 
ment without  his  sordid  selfishness,  and  what  may 
seem  incompatible  with  the  former,  a  glowing  imag- 
ination in  connection  with  fine  mental  powers.  To 
all  but  Mr.  Hamilton  she  appeared  as  cold  and  im- 
penetrable as  himself;  but  the  flashing  eye  and  curl- 
ing lip  with  which  she  listened  to  a  tale  of  injustice, 
or  viewed  a  dishonorable  act,  indicated  a  nature 
truly  noble.  Two  master  passions  ruled  her  heart 
— lore  for  her  parent,  and  fondness  for  books. 
Idolized  by  the  household,  it  was  not  strange  that 
she  soon  learned  to  consider  herself  the  most  im- 
portant member  of  it.  Mr.  Hamilton  found  that  it 
was  essential  for  the  proper  regulation  of  his  estab- 
lishment that  some  lady  should  preside  over  its 
various  departments,  and  accordingly  invited  the 
maiden  sister  of  his  late  wife  to  make  his  house  her 
home,  and  take  charge  of  his  numerous  domestics. 

Of  his  daughter  he  said  nothing.  Aunt  Lizzy,  as 
she  was  called,  was  an  amiable,  good  woman,  but 
not  sufficiently  intellectual  to  superintend  Florry's 
education.  That  little  individual  looked  at  first 
with  distrustful  eyes  on  one  who,  she  supposed, 
might  abridge  her  numerous  privileges;  but  the 
affectionate  manner  of  the  kind-hearted  aunt  re- 
moved all  fear,  and  she  soon  spoke  and  moved  with 
the  freedom  which  had  characterized  her  solitude. 

One  day  when  Florence  was  about  nine  years  old, 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  1 1 

her  father  entered  the  library,  where  she  sat  intently 
reading,  and  said, 

"  Florence,  come  here,  I  have  something  to  tell 
you." 

"  Something  to  tell  me !  I  hope  it  is  pleasant ;" 
and  she  laid  her  hand  on  his  knee,  and  looked  in- 
quiringly in  his  face. 

"  You  remember  the  cousin  Mary,  whose  father 
died  not  long  ago?  Well,  she  has  lost  her  mother 
too,  and  is  coming  to  live  with  us."  As  he  spoke, 
his  voice  faltered  and  his  proud  curling  lip  quivered, 
yet  he  gave  no  other  evidence  of  the  deepest  grief 
he  had  known  for  many  years. 

'"  She  will  be  here  this  evening,  and  I  hope  you 
will  try  to  make  her  contented."  With  these  words 
he  was  leaving  the  room,  but  Florence  said, 

"  Father,  is  she  to  stay  with  us  always,  and  will 
she  sleep  in  my  room  with  me  ?" 

"  She  will  live  with  us  as  long  as  she  likes,  and  if 
you  prefer  it,  can  occupy  the  same  room." 

The  day  wore  on  and  evening  found  her  on  the 
steps  looking  earnestly  down  the  avenue  for  the  ap- 
proach of  the  little  stranger. 

At  length  a  heavy  carriage  drove  to  the  door, 
and  Florry  leaned  forward  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the 
inmate's  face.  A  slight  form,  clad  in  deep  mourn- 
ing, was  placed  on  the  piazza  by  the  coachman. 

Mr.  Hamilton  shook  her  hand  kindly,  and  after  a 
few  words  of  welcome,  said, 

"  Here  is  your  cousin  Florence,  Mary.  I  hope 
you  will  love  each  other,  and  be  happy,  good  little 


12  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

girls."  Mary  looked  almost  fearfully  at  her  proud 
young  cousin,  but  the  sight  of  her  own  pale,  tearful 
face  touched  Florry's  heart,  and  she  threw  her  arms 
round  her  neck  and  kissed  her.  The  embrace  was 
unexpected,  and  Mary  wept  bitterly. 

"  Florence,  why  don't  you  take  Mary  to  her 
room  ?"  . 

"  Would  you  like  to  go  upstairs,  cousin  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes!  if  you  please,  I  had  much  rather."  And 
taking  her  basket  from  her  hand,  Florry  led  the  way. 

Mary  took  off  her  bonnet  and  turned  to  look  again 
at  her  cousin.  Their  eyes  met ;  but  as  if  overcome 
by  some  sudden  recollection,  she  buried  her  face  in 
her  hands  and  burst  again  into  tears. 

Florence  stood  for  some  time  in  silence,  at  length 
she  said  gently, 

"  It  is  almost  tea-time  and  father  will  be  angry  if 
he  sees  you  have  been  crying." 

"Oh!  I  can't  help  it,  indeed  I  can't,"  sobbed  the 
little  mourner, "  he  is  so  much  like  my  dear,  darling 
mother!"  and  she  stifled  a  cry  of  agony. 

"  Is  my  father  like  your  mother,  cousin  Mary  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes!  When  he  spoke  to  me  just  now,  I  al- 
most thought  it  was  mother." 

A  tear  rolled  over  Florry's  cheek,  and  she  slowly 
replied,  "  I  wish  I  knew  somebody  that  looked  .  like 
my  mother."  In  that  hour  was  forged  the  chain 
which  bound  them  through  life,  and  made  them  one 
in  interests. 

Years  rolled  on,  and  found  Mary  happy  in  her 
adopted  home.  If  her  uncle  failed  to  caress  her  as 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE   ALAMO.  1 3 

her  loving  heart  desired,  she  did  not  complain,  for 
she  was  treated  like  her  cousin,  and  found  in  the 
strong  love  of  Florence  an  antidote  for  every  care. 
Mary  was  about  sixteen,  and  Florence  a  few  months 
younger,  at  the  time  our  story  opens,  and  had  been 
placed  in  New  Orleans  to  acquire  French  and  mu- 
sic, as  good  masters  could  not  be  obtained  nearer 
home.  We  have  seen  them  there,  and  hoping  the 
reader  will  pardon  this  digression,  return  to  Florry's 
letter. 


CHAPTER  III. 

"  Philosophy  can  hold  an  easy  triumph  over  past  and  fu- 
ture misfortunes ;  but  those  which  are  present,  triumph  over 
her." 

-Rochefoucault. 

A  STRIKING  difference  in  personal  appearance 
was  presented  by  the  cousins  as  they  stood  together. 
Florence,  though  somewhat  younger,  was  taller  by 
several  inches,  and  her  noble  and  erect  carriage,  in 
connection  with  the  haughty  manner  in  which  her 
head  was  thrown  back,  added  in  effect  to  her  height. 
Her  hair  and  eyes  were  brilliant  black,  the  latter 
particularly  thoughtful  in  their  expression.  The 
forehead  was  not  remarkable  for  height,  but  was 
unusually  prominent  and  white,  and  almost  overhung 
the  eyes.  The  mouth  was  perfect,  the  lips  delicately 
chiseled  and  curving  beautifully  toward  the  full 


14  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

dimpled  chin.  The  face,  though  intellectual,  and 
artistically  beautiful,  was  not  prepossessing.  The 
expression  was  cold  and  haughty;  and  for  this  rea- 
son she  had  received  the  appellations  of  "  Minerva  " 
and  "  Juno,"  such  being  considered  by  her  fellow- 
pupils  as  singularly  appropriate. 

Mary,  on  the  contrary,  was  slight  and  drooping,  and 
her  sweet,  earnest  countenance  elicited  the  love  of 
the  beholder  even  before  an  intimate  acquaintance 
had  brought  to  view  the  beautiful  traits  of  her  truly 
amiable  character. 

And  yet  these  girls,  diametrically  opposed  in  dispo- 
sition, clung  to  each  other  with  a  strength  of  affec- 
tion only  to  be  explained  by  that  strongest  of  all  ties, 
early  association. 

Florence  broke  the  seal  of  her  letter  and  Mary 
walked  to  the  window.  It  looked  out  on  a  narrow 
street  through  which  drays  rattled  noisily  and  occa- 
sional passengers  picked  their  way  along  its  muddy 
crossings. 

Mary  stood  watching  the  manoeuvres  of  a  little 
girl  who  was  endeavoring  to  pass  dry-shod,  when  a 
low  groan  startled  her,  and  turning  quickly  she  per- 
ceived Florence  standing  in  the  centre  of  the  room, 
the  letter  crumpled  in  one  hand ;  her  face  had  grown 
very  pale  and  the  large  eyes  gleamed  strangely. 

"  Oh !  Florry,  what  is  the  matter  ?  Is  your  father 
ill — dead— tell  me  quick!"  and  imploringly  she 
clasped  her  hands. 

Florence  made  a  powerful  effort  and  spoke  in  her 
usual  tone: 


INEZ  J  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  1$ 

"  I  was  foolish  to  give  way  to  my  feelings  even  for 
a  moment — my  father  is  well."  She  paused,  and 
then  added,  as  if  painfully:  "  But,  oh!  he  is  almost 
penniless !" 

"  Penniless!"  echoed  Mary,  as  though  she  could 
not  comprehend  her  cousin's  meaning. 

"  Yes,  Mary,  he  has  been  very  unfortunate  in  his 
speculations,  obliged  to  sell  our  plantation  and  ne- 
groes, and  now,  he  says, '  a  few  paltry  thousands  only 
remain;'  but,  oh!  that  is  not  the  worst — I  wish  it 
were;  he  has  sold  out  everything,  broken  every  tie, 
and  will  be  here  this  evening  on  his  way  to  Texas. 
He  writes  that  I  must  be  ready  to  accompany  him 
to-morrow  night." 

She  paused,  as  if  unwilling  to  add  something 
which  must  be  told,  and  looked  sadly  at  her  cousin. 

Mary  understood  the  glance. 

"  Florry,  there  is  something  in  the  letter  relating 
to  myself,  which  you  withhold  for  fear  of  giving  me 
pain;  the  sooner  I  learn  it  the  better." 

"  Mary,  here  is  a  letter  inclosed  for  you;  but  first 
hear  what  my  father  says,"  and  hurriedly  she  read 
as  follows: 

.  .  .  "  With  regard  to  Mary,  it  cannot  be  ex- 
pected that  she  should  wish  to  accompany  us  on  our 
nigged  path,  and  bitterly,  bitterly  do  I  regret  our 
separation.  Her  paternal  uncle,  now  in  affluence, 
has  often  expressed  a  desire  to  have  her  with  him, 
and  since  my  misfortunes  has  written  me,  offering 
her  a  home  in  his  family.  Every  luxury  and  advan- 
tage afforded  by  wealth  can  still  be  hers,  Did  I  not 


1 6  INEZ  ;   A  TALE   OF  THE   ALAMO. 

feel  that  she^would  be  benefited  by  this  separation, 
nothing  could  induce  me  to  part  with  her,  but  under 
existing  circumstances,  I  can  consent  I  to  give  her 
up." 

Florence  flung  the  letter  from  her  as  she  con- 
cluded, and  approaching  her  cousin,  clasped  her  arms 
fondly  about  her.  Mary  had  covered  her  face  with 
her  hands,  and  the  tears  glistened  on  her  slender 
fingers. 

"  Oh,  Florry !  you  don't  know  how  pained  and 
hurt  I  am  that  uncle  should  think  I  could  be  so  un- 
grateful as  to  forget,  in  the  moment  of  adversity,  his 
unvaried  kindness  for  six  long  years.  Oh,  it  is  cruel 
in  him  to  judge  me  so  harshly,"  and  she  sobbed 
aloud. 

"  I  will  not  be  left,  I  will  go  with  him,  that  is  if — 
if — Florry,  tell  me  candidly,  do  you  think  he  has  any 
other  reason  for  not  taking  me  except  my  fancied 
dislike  to  leaving  this  place — tell  me?" 

"  No,  dear  Mary;  if  he  thought  you  preferred  go- 
ing with  us,  no  power  on  earth  could  induce  him  to 
leave  you." 

Mary  placed  her  hand  in  her  cousin's,  and  mur- 
mured : 

"  Florry,  I  will  go  with  you ;  your  home  shall  be 
my  home,  and  your  sorrows  my  sorrows." 

A  flash  of  joy  irradiated  Florence's  pale  face  as 
she  returned  her  cousin's  warm  embrace. 

"  With  you,  Mary,  to  comfort  and  assist  me,  I  fear 
nothing ;  but  you  have  not  yet  read  your  uncle's  let- 


INEZ  ,*   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  If 

ter;  perhaps  its  contents  may  influence  your  deci- 
sion." 

Mary  perused  it  in  silence,  and  then  put  it  in  her 
cousin's  hand,  while  the  tears  rolled  over  her 
cheeks. 

"  Mary,  think  well  ere  you  reject  this  kind  offer. 
Remember  how  earnestly  he  entreats  that  you  will 
come  and  share  his  love,  his  home  and  his  fortune. 
Many  privations  will  be  ours  in  the  land  to  which 
we  go,  and  numberless  trials  assail  the  poverty- 
stricken.  All  these  you  can  avoid  by  accepting  this 
very  affectionate  invitation.  Think  well,  Mary,  lest 
in  after  years  you  repent  your  hasty  decision." 

There  came  a  long  pause,  and  hurriedly  Florence 
paced  to  and  fro.  Mary  lifted  her  bowed  head,  and 
pushing  back  her  clustering  hair,  calmly  replied, 
"  My  heart  swells  with  gratitude  toward  my  noble, 
generous  uucle.  Oh,  how  fervently  I  can  thank  him 
for  his  proffered  home !  yet,  separated  from  you,  dear 
Florry,  I  could  not  be  happy;  my  heart  would  ache 
for  you  and  your  warm,  trusting  love.  I  fear  nei- 
ther poverty  nor  hardships.  Oh,  let  me  go  with  you 
and  cheer  and  assist  my  dear  uncle!" 

"  You  shall  go  with  us,  my  pure-hearted  cousin. 
When  I  thought  a  moment  since  of  parting  with  you, 
my  future  seemed  gloomy  indeed,  but  now  I  know 
that  you  will  be  near  I  am  content." 

A  short  silence  ensued,  broken  by  a  mournful  ex- 
clamation from  Florence. 

"  Ah !  Mary,  it  is  not  for  myself  that  I  regret  this 
change  of  fortune,  but  for  my  proud,  haughty  father, 


1 8  INEZ  ;   A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO. 

who  will  suffer  so  keenly.  Oh,  my  heart  aches  when 
I  think  of  him!" 

"  Florry,  we  must  cheer  him  by  those  thousand 
little  attentions  which  will  lead  him  to  forget  his  pe- 
cuniary troubles." 

Florence  shook  her  head. 

"  You  do  not  know  my  father  as  I  do.  He  will 
have  no  comforts,  broods  over  difficulties  in  secret, 
and  shrinks  from  sympathy  as  from  a  '  scorching 
brand.' " 

"  Still  I  think  we  can  do  much  to  lighten  his  cares 
and  I  pray  God  I  may  not  be  mistaken,"  replied 
Mary. 

Florence  lifted  her  head  from  her  palm  and  gazed 
vacantly  at  her  cousin,  then  started  from  her  seat. 

"  Mary,  we  must  not  sit  here  idly  when  there  is  so 
much  to  do.  Madame should  know  we  leave  to- 
morrow, and  it  will  take  us  all  day  to  prepare  for 
our  journey." 

"  Do  let  me  go  and  speak  to  Madame ;  it  will 

be  less  unpleasant  to  me !" 

"  No,  no;  I  will  go  myself:  they  shall  not  think 
I  feel  it  so  sensibly,  and  their  condolence  to- morrow 
would  irritate  me  beyond  measure.  I  scorn  such 
petty  trials  as  loss  of  fortune,  and  they  shall  know 
it." 

"  Who  shall  know  it,  Florry  ?" 

Her  cheek  flushed,  but  without  a  reply  she  left 
the  room,  and  descended  the  steps  which  led  to 

Madame 's  parlor.  Reaching  the  door,  she  drew 

herself  proudly  up,  then  knocked. 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  19 

"  Come  in,"  was  the  response. 

She  did  so.  In  the  centre  of  the  apartment,  with 
an  open  book  on  the  table  before  him  sat  the  teacher 
who  officiated  at  prayers.  He  rose  and  bowed  coldly 
in  answer  to  her  salutation. 

"  Pardon  my  intrusion,  Mr.  Stewart.  I  expected 
to  find  Madame  here." 

"  She  has  gone  to  spend  the  morning  with  an  in- 
valid sister,  and  requested  me  to  take  charge  of  her 
classes  in  addition  to  my  own.  If  I  can  render  you 
any  assistance,  Miss  Hamilton,  I  am  at  your  ser- 
vice." 

"  Thank  you,  £  am  in  need  of  no  assistance,  and 
merely  wished  to  say  to  Madame  that  I  should  leave 
New  Orleans  to-morrow,  having  heard  from  my 
father  that  he  will  be  here  in  the  evening  boat." 

"  I  will  inform  her  of  your  intended  departure  as 
as  early  as  possible." 

"  You  will  oblige  me  by  doing  so,"  replied  Flo- 
rence, turning  to  go. 

"  Miss  Hamilton,  may  I  ask  you  if  your  cousin  ac- 
companies you  ?" 

"  She  does,"  was  the  laconic  answer,  and  slowly 
she  retraced  her  steps,  and  stood  at  her  own  door. 
The  cheeks  had  become  colorless,  and  the  delicate 
lips  writhed  with  pain.  She  paused  a  moment,  then 
entered. 

"  Did  you  see  her,  Florry  ?" 

"  No,  she  is  absent,  but  I  left  word  for  her." 

Her  tone  was  hard,  dry,  as  though  she  had  been 
striving  long  for  some  goal,  which,  when  nearly  at- 


2O  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

tained,  her  failing  strength  was  scarce  able  to  grasp. 
It  was  the  echo  of  a  fearful  struggle  that  had  raged 
in  her  proud  bosom.  The  knell  it  seemed  of  expir- 
ing exertion,  of  sinking  resistance.  Mary  gazed 
sadly  on  her  cousin,  who  stood  mechanically  smooth- 
ing her  glossy  hair.  The  haughty  features  seemed 
chiseled  in  marble,  so  cold,  stony  was  the  expres- 
sion. 

"  Dear  Florry !  you  look  harassed  and  weary  al- 
ready. Why,  why  will  you  overtask  your  strength, 
merely  to  be  called  a  disciple  of  Zeno  ?  Surely  you 
can  not  seriously  desire  so  insignificant  an  honor, 
if  it  merits  that  title  ?" 

"  Can  you,  then,  see  no  glory  in  crushing  long- 
cherished  hopes — nay,  when  your  heart  is  yearning 
toward  some  *  bright  particular  '  path,  to  turn  with- 
out one  symptom  of  regret,  and  calmly  tread  one 
just  the  opposite !  Tell  me,  can  you  perceive  noth- 
ing elevating  in  this  Stoical  command  ?" 

The  cold,  vacant  look  had  passed  away;  her  dark 
eyes  gleamed,  glittered  as  with  anticipated  triumph. 

"  Florry,  I  do  not  understand  you  exactly  ;  but  I 
do  know  that  command  of  the  heart  is  impossible, 
from  the  source  whence  you  draw.  It  may  seem 
perfect  control  now,  but  it  will  fail  you  in  the  dark 
hour  of  your  need,  if  many  trials  should  assail.  Oh ! 
my  cousin,  do  not  be  angry  if  I  say  *  you  have  for- 
saken the  fountain  of  living  water,  and  hewn  out  for 
yourself  broken  cisterns,  which  hold  no  water.'  Oh ! 
Florry,  before  you  take  another  step,  return  to  Him' 
•  who  has  a  balm  for  every  wound.* M 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  21 

Florence's  face  softened;  an  expression  of  relief 
began  to  steal  over  her  countenance;  but  as  Mary 
ceased  speaking,  she  turned  her  face,  beautiful  in  its 
angelic  purity,  full  upon  her.  A  bitter  smile  curled 
Florence's  lip,  and  muttering  hoarsely, "  A  few  more 
hours  and  the  struggle  will  be  over,"  she  turned  to 
her  bureau,  and  arranged  her  clothes  for  packing. 

The  day  passed  in  preparation,  and  twilight  found 
the  cousins  watching  intently  at  the  casement.  The 
great  clock  in  the  hall  chimed  out  seven,  the  last 
stroke  died  away,  and  then  the  sharp  clang  of  the 
door  bell  again  broke  silence.  They  started  to  their 
feet,  heard  the  street  door  open  and  close — then  steps 
along  the  stairs,  nearer  and  nearer — then  came  a 
knock  at  the  door.  Mary  opened  it;  the  servant 
handed  in  a  card  and  withdrew.  "  Mr.  J.  A.  Hamil- 
ton." Florence  passed  out,  Mary  remained  behind. 

"  Come,  why  do  you  linger  ?" 

"  I  thought,  Florry,  you  might  wish  to  see  him 
alone;  perhaps  he  would  prefer  it." 

"  Mary,  you  have  identified  yourself  with  us.  To 
my  father  we  must  be  as  one."  She  extended  her 
hand,  and  the  next  moment  they  stood  in  the  recep- 
tion room. 

The  father  and  uncle  was  standing  with  folded 
arms,  looking  down  into  the  muddy  street  below. 
He  advanced  to  meet  them,  holding  out  a  hand  to 
each.  Florence  pressed  her  lips  to  the  one  she  held, 
and  exclaimed, 

"  My  dear  father,  how  glad  I  am  to  see  you  1" 


22  INEZ  J  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

"  Glad  to  see  me !  You  did  not  receive  my  letters 
then  ?" 

"  Yes  I  did,  but  are  their  contents  and  pleasure  at 
meeting  you  incompatible  ?" 

He  made  no  reply,  and  then  Mary  said,  in  a  low, 
tremulous  tone, 

"  Uncle,  you  have  done  me  a  great  injury,  and  you 
must  make  me  all  the  reparation  in  your  power. 
You  said,  in  your  letter  to  Florry,  that  you  did  not 
think  I  would  wish  to  go  with  you.  Oh,  uncle !  you 
do  not,  can  not  believe  me  so  ungrateful,  so  devoid 
of  love  as  to  wish,  under  any  circumstances,  to  be 
separated  from  you.  Now  ease  my  heart,  and  say  I 
may  share  your  new  home.  I  should  be  very  mis- 
erable away  from  you." 

An  expression  of  pleasure  passed  over  his  face, 
but  again  the  brow  darkened. 

"  Mary!  Florence  is  my  child — my  destiny  hers, 
my  misfortunes  hers;  but  I  have  no  right  to  drag 
you  with  me  in  my  fall;  to  deprive  you  of  the  many 
advantages  that  will  be  afforded  by  your  uncle's 
wealth,  of  the  social  position  you  may  one  day  at- 
tain." 

"  Uncle !  uncle !  am  I  not  your  child  by  adoption  ? 
Have  you  not  loved  and  cared  for  me  during  long 
years  ?  Oh!  what  do  I  care  for  wealth — for  what 
you  call  a  high  position  in  the  world  ?  You  and 
Florry  are  my  world."  She  threw  her  arms  about 
his  neck,  and  sobbed,  "  Take^me !  oh,  take  me  with 
you !" 

"  If  you  so  earnestly  desire  it,  you  shall  indeed  go 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  23 

with  us,  my  Mary."  And,  for  the  first  time  in  her 
life,  he  imprinted  a  kiss  on  her  brow. 

When  he  departed,  it  was  with  a  promise  to  call 
for  them  the  next  morning,  that  they  might  make, 
with  their  aunt,  some  necessary  purchases,  and  re- 
move to  a  hotel  near  the  river. 

Every  thing  was  packed  the  ensuing  day,  when 
Mary  suddenly  remembered  that  her  books  were 
still  in  the  recitation  room,  and  would  have  gone  for 
them,  but  Florence  said, 

"  I  will  bring  up  the  books,  Mary;  you  are  tired 
and  pale  with  bending  so  long  over  that  trunk." 
And  accordingly  she  went. 

Mary  threw  herself  on  the  couch  to  rest  a  moment, 
and  fell  into  a  reverie  of  some  length,  unheeding  the 
flying  minutes,  when  she  recollected  that  Florence 
had  been  absent  a  long  time,  and  rising,  was  about 
to  seek  her;  just  then  her  cousin  entered.  A  change 
had  come  over  her  countenance — peace,  quiet,  hap- 
piness reigned  supreme.  One  hour  later,  and  they 

had  gone  from  Madame  's,  never  to  return 

again. 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

"Time  the  supreme  1    ^Time  is  eternity, 
Pregnant  with  all  eternity  can  give; 
With  all  that  makes  archangels  smile. 
Who  murders  time,  he  crushes  in  the  birth 
A  power  ethereal." 


A  YEAR  had  passed  away. 

Season  had  followed  season  in  rapid  succession, 
and  the  last  rays  of  an  August  sun  illumined  a  scene 
so  beautiful,  that  I  long  for  the  pencil  of  a  Claude 
Lorraine.  It  was  a  far-off  town  in  a  far-off  state, 
yet  who  has  gazed  on  thy  loveliness,  oh,  San  Antonio, 
can  ere  forget  thee  !  thine  was  the  sweetness  of  na- 
ture; no  munificent  hand  had  arranged,  with  artistic 
skill,  a  statue  here,  a  fountain  there. 

The  river  wound  like  an  azure  girdle  round  the 
town;  not  confined  by  precipitous  banks,  but  glid- 
ing along  the  surface,  as  it  were,  and  reflecting,  in 
its  deep  blue  waters,  the  rustling  tule  which  fringed 
the  margin.  An  occasional  pecan  or  live-oak  flung 
a  majestic  shadow  athwart  its  azure  bosom,  and  now 
and  then  a  clump  of  willows  sighed  low  in  the  even- 
ing breeze. 

Far  away  to  the  north  stretched  a  mountain  range, 
blue  in  the  distance  ;  to  the  south,  the  luxuriant 
valley  of  the  stream.  The  streets  were  narrow,  and 
wound  with  a  total  disregard  of  the  points  of  the 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  25 

compass.  Could  a  stranger  have  been  placed  blind- 
fold in  one  of  them,  and  then  allowed  to  look  about 
him,  the  flat  roofs  and  light  appearance  of  most  of 
the  houses  would  have  forced  him  to  declare  that  he 
had  entered  a  tropical  town  of  the  far-east. 

Many  of  the  buildings  were  of  musquit  pickets, 
set  upright  in  the  ground,  lashed  together  with  strips 
of  hide,  and  thatched  with  the  tule  before  men- 
tioned. There  were  scarce  three  plank- floors  in  the 
town  ;  by  far  the  greater  number  being  composed  of 
layers  of  pebbles,  lime,  and  sand,  rolled  with  a  heavy 
piece  of  timber  till  quite  compact  ;  daily  sprinkling 
was  found  necessary,  however,  to  keep  down  the 
dust,  produced  by  constant  friction. 

The  wealthy  inhabitants  built  of  sun-dried  bricks, 
overcast  with  a  kind  of  stucco.  Yet,  unfortunately  ^ 
the  plastering  art  died  with  the  Montezumas,  for  the 
most  vivid  imagination  failed  to  convert  this  rough 
coating  into  the  "  silver  sheen  "  which  so  dazzled 
Cortes's  little  band.  The  reader  will  exclaim, "  I 
can  fancy  no  beauty  from  so  prosy  a  description. 
Thatched  roofs  and  dirt  floors,  how  absurd !" 

Although  a  strict  analysis  might  prove  detrimen- 
tal, I  assure  you  the  "  tout  ensemble  "  was  picturesque 
indeed. 

"  Italia  !  oh  Italia  !  thou  who  hast 
The  fatal  gift  of  beauty," 

art  rivaled  here  !  Thy  gorgeous  skies  have  floated 
hither,  and  hover  like  a  halo  round  the  town.  The 
sun  had  set  ;  the  glowing  tints  faded  fast,  till  of  the 


26  INEZ  J  A  TALB  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

brilliant  spectacle  naught  remained  save  the  soft, 
roseate  hue  which  melted  insensibly  into  the  deep 
azure  of  the  zenith.  Quiet  seemed  settling  o'er 
mountain  and  river,  when,  with  a  solemn  sweetness, 
the  vesper  bells  chimed  out  on  the  evening  air. 
Even  as  the  Moslem  kneels  at  sunset  toward  the 
"  Holy  City,"  so  punctiliously  does  the  devout  pa- 
pist bend  for  vesper  prayers.  Will  you  traverse 
with  me  the  crooked  streets,  and  stand  beneath  the 
belfry  whence  issued  the  holy  tones? 

This  ancient  edifice  was  constructed  in  1692.  It 
fronted  the  Plaza,  and  was  a  long,  narrow  building, 
flanked,  as  it  were,  by  wings  lower  than  the  main 
apartment,  and  surmounted  by  a  dome,  in  which 
were  five  or  six  bells.  This  dome  or  belfry  was 
supported  by  pillars,  and  in  the  intervening  open- 
ings were  placed  the  bells.  The  roof  was  flat,  and 
the  dark  green  and  gray  moss  clung  along  the  sides. 
The  interior  presented  a  singular  combination  of  art 
and  rudeness;  the  seats  were  of  unpainted  pine,  and 
the  cement  floor  between  was  worn  irregularly  by 
the  knees  of  devout  attendants.  The  railing  of  the 
altar  was  of  carved  mahogany,  rich  and  beautiful. 
Over  this  division  of  the  long  room  hung  a  silken 
curtain,  concealing  three  niches,  which  contained  an 
image  of  the  "  Virgin,"  the  "  Child,"  and  in  the 
centre  one,  a  tall  gilt  cross.  Heavy  silver  candle- 
sticks were  placed  in  front  of  each  niche,  and  a  dozen 
candles  were  now  burning  dimly.  A  variety  of 
relics,  too  numerous  to  mention,  were  scattered  on 
the  altar,  and  in  addition,  several  silver  goblets,  and 


INEZ  J  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  27 

a  massive  bowl  for  holding  "  holy  water."  A  few 
tin  sconces,  placed  against  the  wall,  were  the  only 
provision  for  lighting  that  dark,  gloomy  church,  and 
dreary  enough  it  looked  in  the  twilight  hour.  About 
a  dozen  devotees  were  present,  all  kneeling  on  the 
damp,  hard  floor.  The  silk  curtain  which  concealed 
the  altar  was  drawn  aside,  with  due  solemnity,  by 
two  boys  habited  in  red  flannel  petticoats,  over 
which  hung  a  loose  white  slip.  The  officiating 
priest  was  seen  kneeling  before  the  altar,  with  his 
lips  pressed  to  the  foot  of  the  cross.  He  retained  his 
position  for  several  moments,  then  rising,  conducted 
the  ceremonies  in  a  calm,  imposing  manner.  When 
these  were  concluded,  and  all  had  departed,  save  the 
two  boys,  who  still  knelt  before  the  Virgin,  he  beck- 
oned them  to  him,  and  speaking  a  few  words  in 
Spanish,  ended  by  pointing  to  the  door  and  uttering 
emphatically,  "  go  !"  Crossing  themselves  as  they 
passed  the  images,  they  disappeared  through  a  side 
door,  and  the  priest  was  left  alone. 


Vol.  6  B— Evans 


28  INEZ  J  A  TALE   OF   THE  ALAMO. 


CHAPTER  V. 

*        *        *        "  He  was  a  man 

Who  stole  the  livery  of  the  court  of  heaven 

To  serve  the  devil  in ;  in  Virtue's  guise, 

Devoured  the  widow's  house  and  orphan's  bread; 

In  holy  phrase,  transacted  villanies 

That  common  sinners  durst  not  meddle  with." 

—Pollok. 

IN  years,  he  could  not  have  exceeded  twenty-five, 
yet  the  countenance  was  that  of  one  well  versed  in 
intrigue.  The  cast  was  Italian — the  crisp  black  hair, 
swarthy  complexion,  and  never-to-be-mistaken  eyes. 
A  large  amount  of  Jesuit  determination  was  expressed 
in  his  iris,  blended  with  cunning,  malignity,  and 
fierceness.  The  features  were  prominent,  particu- 
larly the  nose;  the  lips  finely  cut,  but  thin;  the  teeth 
beautiful  and  regular.  In  stature  he  was  low,  and 
habited  in  the  dress  of  his  order,  a  long  black  coat 
or  gown,  buttoned  to  the  throat,  and  reaching  nearly 
to  the  feet. 

Glancing  at  his  watch  as  the  sound  of  the  last  step 
died  away,  he  paced  round  and  round  the  altar,  ne- 
glecting now  the  many  genuflections,  bows,  and 
crossings  with  which  he  had  honored  the  images  in 
the  presence  of  his  flock.  His  brows  were  knit,  as 
if  in  deep  thought,  and  doubtless  he  revolved  the  re- 
sult of  some  deep  laid  plan,  when  the  door  was  hur- 
riedly  opened,  and  a  man,  bowing  low  before  the 


INEZ  ;   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  39 

images,  approached  him.  The  dress  of  the  stranger 
declared  him  a  ranchero:  he  wore  no  jacket,  but  his 
pantaloons  were  of  buckskin,  and  his  broad  sombrero 
was  tucked  beneath  his  arm. 

"  Benedicite,  Juan!" 

"  Buefio  noche,  Padre. 

"  What  tidings  do  you  bring  me  ?"  said  Father 
Mazzolin. 

The  Mexican  handed  him  a  letter,  and  then,  as  if 
much  fatigued,  leaned  heavily  against  the  wall,  and 
wiped  his  brow  with  a  large  blue  cotton  handker- 
chief. As  the  priest  turned  away  and  perused  his 
letter,  a  smile  of  triumphant  joy  irradiated  his  face, 
and  a  momentary  flush  tinged  his  dark  cheek.  Again 
he  read  it,  then  thrusting  it  into  his  bosom,  addressed 
the  bearer: 

"  May  the  blessing  of  the  church  rest  upon  you, 
who  have  so  faithfully  served  your  Padre;"  and  he 
extended  his  hand.  Warmly  it  was  grasped  by  Juan, 
with  a  look  of  grateful  surprise. 

"  Este  buefio  ?"  inquired  Juan. 

"  Si  mui  buefio.  Juan,  do  you  read  American 
writing  ?" 

"  Chiquito,"  was  answered,  with  a  slight  shrug. 

"  What  is  the  news  in  the  el  grand  Ciudad  ?" 

"  They  have  a  strong  ox  to  pull  the  ropes,  now 
Santa  Anna  is  at  the  head.  *  Bravura !'  "  and  the 
ranchero  tossed  his  hat,  regardless  of  the  place. 

It  was,  however,  no  part  of  Mazzolin 's  policy  to 
allow  him  for  one  moment  to  forget  the  reverence 
due  the  marble  images  that  looked  so  calmly  down 


3O  INEZ  :  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

from  their  niches,  and  with  a  stern  glance  he  pointed 
to  them,  crossing  himself  as  he  did  so.  Juan  went 
down  on  his  knees,  and  with  an  "  Ave  Maria,"  and 
a  Mexican  dollar  (which  he  laid  on  the  altar),  quieted 
his  conscience. 

"  Sefior  Austin  is  in  the  Calaboose,"  he  said,  after 
a  pause. 

Mazzolin  started,  and  looked  keenly  at  him,  as  if 
striving  to  read  his  inmost  thoughts. 

"  You  must  be  mistaken,  Juan ;  there  is  no  men- 
tion of  it  in  my  letter !"  he  said,  in  a  tone  of  one  fear- 
ing to  believe  good  news. 

"  Not  at  all,  Padre.  We  started  together — there 
were  fifteen  of  us — and  after  we  had  come  a  long 
way,  so  far  as  Saltillo,  some  of  Santa  Anna's  cava- 
leros  overtook  us,  and  carried  Sefior  Americano 
back  with  them,  and  said  they  had  orders  to  do  it,  for 
he  was  no  friend  to  our  nation.  I  know,  for  I  heard 
for  myself." 

"  Do  you  know  the  particular  reason  of  his  arrest  ?" 

Juan  shook  his  head,  and  replied, "  That  the  officers 
did  not  say." 

"  Did  you  mention  to  any  one  your  having  a  letter 
for  me  ?" 

"  No,  Padre ;  I  tell  no  man  what  does  not  concern 
him." 

"  A  wise  plan,  Juan,  I  would  advise  you  always  to 
follow;  and  be  very  careful  that  you  say  nothing  to 
any  one  about  my  letter:  I  particularly  desire  it." 

"  Intiendo,"  said  Juan,  turning  toward  the  door. 
"  I  go  to  my  ranche  to-morrow,  but  come  back  be- 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  3! 

fore  many  sunsets,  and  if  you  want  me  again,  Padre, 
you  know  where  to  find  me." 

"  The  blessing  of  the '  Holy  Virgin '  rest  upon  you, 
my  son,  and  reward  you  for  your  services  in  behalf 
of  the  church." 

"  Adios !"    And  they  parted. 

Father  Mazzolin  drew  forth  the  letter,  and  read  it 
attentively  for  the  third  time,  then  held  it  over  one 
of  the  twelve  candles,  and  deliberately  burnt  it,  mut- 
tering the  while,  "  Ashes  tell  no  tales." 

Extinguishing  the  candles  and  locking  the  door  of 
the  church,  he  said  to  himself: 

"  All  is  as  I  foresaw;  a  breach  is  made  which  can 
only  be  closed  by  the  bodies  of  hundreds  of  these 
cursed  heretics;  and  Santa  Anna  is  blood-thirsty 
enough  to  drain  the  last  drop.  Alphonso  Mazzolin, 
canst  thou  not  carve  thy  fortune  in  the  coming 
storm  ?  Yea,  and  I  will.  I  am  no  unworthy  fol- 
lower of  Loyola,  of  Xavier,  and  of  Bobadillo.  Pa- 
tience! a  Cardinal's  cap  shall  crown  my  labors;"  and 
with  a  chuckling  laugh  he  entered  the  narrow  street 
which  led  to  his  dwelling. 

"  There  is  but  one  obstacle  here,"  he  continued; 
"  that  Protestant  girl's  work  is  hard  to  undo,"  and 
his  step  became  quicker.  "  But  for  her,  I  should 
have  been  confessor  to  the  whole  family,  and  will  be 
yet,  despite  her  warning  efforts,  though  I  had  rather 
deal  with  any  three  men.  She  is  as  untiring  as  my- 
self." He  reached  his  door,  and  entered. 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

And  ruder  words  will  soon  rush  in 
To  spread  the  breach  that  words  begin. 
And  eyes  forget  the  gentle  ray 
They  wore  in  courtship's  smiling  day ; 
And  voices  lose  the  tone  that  shed 
A  tenderness  round  all  they  said." 

— Moort. 

INEZ  DE  GARCIA  was  an  only  child,  and  in  San 
Antonio  considered  quite  an  heiress.  Her  wealth 
consisted  in  broad  lands,  large  flocks,  and  numerous 
herds,  and  these  valuable  possessions,  combined  with 
her  beautiful  face,  rendered  her  the  object  of  con- 
siderable attention.  Inez  was  endowed  with  quick 
perceptions,  and  a  most  indomitable  will,  which  she 
never  surrendered,  except  to  accomplish  some  latent 
design;  and  none  who  looked  into  her  beautiful 
eyes  could  suppose  that  beauty  predominated  over 
intellect.  She  was  subtile,  and  consciousness  of  her 
powers  was  seen  in  the  haughty  glance  and  con- 
temptuous smile.  Her  hand  had  been  promised 
from  infancy  to  her  orphan  cousin,  Mafiuel  Nevarro, 
whose  possessions  were  nearly  as  extensive  as  her 
own.  Inez  looked  with  indifference  on  her  hand- 
some cousin,  but  never  objected,  till  within  a  few 
weeks  of  her  seventeenth  birthday  (the  period  ap- 
pointed for  her  marriage),  when  she  urged  her  father 
to  break  the  engagement.  This  he  positively  refused 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  33 

to  do,  but  promising,  at  Father  Mazzolin's  sugges- 
tion, that  she  should  have  a  few  more  months  of 
freedom,  she  apparently  acquiesced.  Among  the 
peculiar  customs  of  Mexicans  was  a  singular  method 

of  celebrating  St. 's  day.  Instead  of  repairing 

to  their  church  and  engaging  in  some  rational  ser- 
vice, they  mounted  their  half  wild  ponies,  and  rode 
furiously  up  and  down  the  streets  till  their  jaded 
steeds  refused  to  stir  another  step,  when  they  were 
graciously  allowed  to  finish  the  day  on  the  common. 
The  celebration  of  the  festival  was  not  confined  to 
the  masculine  portion  of  the  community;  silver- 
haired  Sefioras  mingled  in  the  cavalcade,  and  many 

a  bright-eyed  Senorita  looked  forward  to  St. 's 

day  with  feelings  nearly  akin  to  those  with  which  a 
New  York  belle  regards  the  most  fashionable  ball  of 
the  season. 

On  the  evening  preceding  the  day  of  that  canon- 
ized lady,(Mafiuel  entered  the  room  where  Inez  sat, 
her  needlework  on  the  floor  at  some  distance,  as 
though  fl  .ng  impatiently  from  her,  her  head  resting 
on  one  hand,  while  the  other  held  a  gentleman's 
glove.  Light  as  was  his  step,  she  detected  it,  and 
thrusting  the  glove  into  her  bosom,  turned  her  fine 
face  full  upon  him. 

"  What  in  the  name  of  wonder  brings  you  here 
this  time  of  day,  Mafiuel?  I  thought  every  one  but 
myself  was  taking  a  siesta  this  warm  evening." 

"  I  have  been  trying  a  new  horse,  Inez,  and  came 
to  know  at  what  hour  you  would  ride  to-morrow.'* 


34  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

He  stood  fanning  himself  with  his  broad  sombrero  as 
he  spoke. 

"  Excuse  me,  Sefior,  I  do  not  intend  to  ride  at 
all." 

"  You  never  refused  before,  Inez :  what  is  the 
meaning  of  this?"  and  his  Spanish  brow  darkened 
ominously. 

"  That  I  do  not  feel  inclined  to  do  so,  is  sufficient 
reason." 

"  And  why  don't  you  choose  to  ride,  pray?  You 
have  done  it  all  your  life." 

"  I'll  be  cross-questioned  by  no  one!" replied  Inez, 
springing  to  her  feet,  with  flashing  eyes,  and  passion- 
ately clinching  her  small,  jeweled  hand. 

Manuel  was  of  a  fiery  temperament,  and  one  of 
the  many  who  never  pause  to  weigh  the  effect  of 
their  words  or  actions.  Seizing  her  arm  in  no  gen- 
tle manner,  he  angrily  exclaimed: 

"  A  few  more  weeks  and  I'll  see  whether  you  in- 
dulge every  whim,  and  play  the  queen  so  royally !" 

Inez  disengaged  her  arm,  every  feature  quivering 
with  scorn. 

"  To  whom  do  you  speak,  Sefior  Nevarro?  You 
have  certainly  mistaken  me  for  one  of  the  miserable 
peons  over  whom  you  claim  jurisdiction.  Allow  me 
to  undeceive  you.  I  am  Inez  de  Garcia,  to  whom 
you  shall  never  dictate,  for  I  solemnly  declare,  that 
from  this  day  the  link  which  has  bound  us  from  child- 
hood is  at  an  end.  Mine  be  the  hand  to  sever  it. 
From  this  hour  we  meet  only  as  cousins !  Go  find  a 
more  congenial  bride!" 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  35 

"  Hold,  Inez!  are  you  mad?' 

"  No,  Mafiuel,  but  candid ;  for  eight  years  I  have 
known  that  I  was  destined  to  be  your  wife,  but  I 
never  loved  you,  Mafiuel.  I  do  not,  and  never  can, 
otherwise  than  as  a  cousin." 

In  a  tone  of  ill-suppressed  rage,  Nevarro  retorted : 

"  My  uncle's  authority  shall  compel  you  to  fulfill 
the  engagement!  You  shall  not  thus  escape  me!" 

"  As  you  please,  Sefior.  Yet  let  me  tell  you,  com- 
pulsion will  not  answer.  The  combined  efforts  of 
San  Antonio  will  not  avail — they  may  crush,  but  can 
not  conquer  me."  She  bowed  low,  and  left  the 
room. 

Every  feature  inflamed  with  wrath,  Nevarro 
snatched  his  hat,  and  hurried  down  the  street.  He 
had  not  proceeded  far,  when  a  hand  was  laid  upon 
his  arm,  and  turning,  with  somewhat  pugnacious  in- 
tentions, he  encountered  Father  Mazzolin's  piercing 
black  eyes. 

"  Buefio  tarde,  Padre." 

The  black  eyes  rested  on  Nevarro  with  an  expres- 
sion which  seemed  to  demand  an  explanation  of  his 
choler.  Mafiuel  moved  uneasily  ;  the  hot  blood 
glowed  in  his  swarthy  cheek,  and  swelled  like  cords 
on  the  darkened  brow. 

"  Did  you  wish  to  speak  with  me,  Padre?" 

"  Even  so,  my  son.  Thou  art  troubled,  come  unto 
one  who  can  give  thee  comfort." 

They  were  standing  before  the  door  of  the  harkell 
occupied  by  the  priest;  he  opened  it9  and  drew 
Mafiuel  in. 


36  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

An  hour  later  they  emerged  from  the  house.  AH 
trace  of  anger  was  removed  from  Nevarro's  brow, 
and  Father  Mazzolin's  countenance  wore  the  im- 
penetrable cast  he  ever  assumed  in  public.  It  was 
his  business  expression,  the  mask  behind  which  he 
secretly  drew  the  strings,  and  lured  his  dupes  into 
believing  him  a  disinterested  and  self-  denying  pastor, 
whose  only  aim  in  life  was  to  promote  the  welfare 
and  happiness  of  his  flock. 

When  Don  Garcia  sat  that  night,  &  la  Turk,  on  a 
buffalo- robe  before  his  door,  puffing  his  cigarrita, 
and  keeping  time  to  the  violin,  which  sent  forth  its 
merry  tones  at  a  neighboring  fandango,  Inez  drew 
near,  and  related  the  result  of  her  interview  with 
Mafiuel,  concluding  by  declaring  her  intention  to 
abide  by  her  decision,  and  consult  her  own  wishes  in 
the  selection  of  a  husband. 

His  astonishment  was  great.  First  he  tried  reason- 
ing, but  she  refuted  every  argument  advanced  with 
the  adroitness  of  an  Abelard:  the  small  stock  of 
patience  with  which  "  Dame  Nature  "  had  endowed 
the  Don  gave  way,  and  at  last,  stamping  with  rage, 
he  swore  she  should  comply,  or  end  her  life  in  .a 
gloomy  cell  of  San  Jose. 

Inez  laughed  contemptuously.  She  felt  the  whirl- 
wind she  had  raised  gathering  about  her,  yet  sought 
not  to  allay  it ;  she  knew  it  was  the  precursor  of  a 
fierce  struggle,  yet  quailed  not.  Like  the  heroine 
of  S'ragossa,  or  the  martyr  of  Rouen,  she  knew  not 
fear;  and  her  restless  nature  rather  joyed  in  the 
strife. 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  37 

A  low  growl  from  the  dog  who  shared  the  robe, 
announced  an  intruder,  and  the  next  moment  the 
Padre  joined  them.  He  was  joyfully  hailed  by  De 
Garcia  as  an  ally;  but  a  dark  look  of  hatred  gleamed 
from  Inez's  eyes,  as  they  rested  on  his  form :  it  van- 
ished instantly,  and  she  welcomed  him  with  a  smile. 
She  was  cognizant  of  his  interview  with  Nevarro,  for 
her  window  overlooked  the  street  in  which  it  took 
place.  She  knew,  too,  his  powers  of  intrigue;  that 
they  were  enlisted  against  her ;  and  a  glance  sufficed 
to  show  the  path  to  be  pursued.  Long  ago  her 
penetrating  eye  had  probed  the  mask  of  dissimula- 
tion which  concealed,  like  the  "  silver  vail  "  of  Mo- 
kanna,  a  great  deformity;  how  much  greater  because, 
alas !  a  moral  one. 

Father  Mazzolin  inquired,  with  apparent  interest, 
the  cause  of  contention.  The  Don  gave  a  detailed 
account,  and  wound  up  by  applying  to  him  for  sup- 
port, in  favor  of  Nevarro.  The  look  of  sorrowful 
astonishment  with  which  he  listened,  compelled  Inez 
to  fix  her  large  Spanish  eyes  on  the  ground,  lest  he 
should  perceive  the  smile  which  lurked  in  their 
corners,  and  half  played  round  her  lip. 

He  rebuked  her  gently,  and  spoke  briefly  of  the 
evils  which  would  result,  if  she  persisted  in  her  will- 
ful and  ungrateful  course.  Inez  listened  with  a 
meekness  which  surprised  both  parent  and  Padre; 
and  when  the  latter  rose  to  go,  approached,  and,  in 
a  low  tone,  requested  him  to  meet  her,  that  day 
week,  in  the  confessional. 

Woman's  heart  is  every  where  the  same,  and  in 


38  INEZ  :  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

the  solitude  of  her  own  apartment,  Inez's  softer 
feelings  found  full  vent.  She  sat  with  her  face  in 
her  hands,  one  long  deep  sigh,  which  struggled  up, 
telling  of  the  secret  pain  that  was  withering  her  joys 
and  clouding  her  future.  Suddenly  she  started  up, 
and  passionately  exclaimed, 

"  It  is  hard  that  his  love  should  be  wasted  on  one 
whose  heart  is  as  cold  and  stony  as  this  wall;"  and 
she  struck  it  impatiently.  Then  drawing  forth  the 
glove,  which  on  Mafiuel's  entrance  had  been  so 
hastily  secreted,  she  pressed  it  repeatedly  to  her  lips, 
returned  it  to  its  hiding-place  and  sought  her  couch. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

"What  cause  have  we  to  build  on  length  of  life: 
Temptations  seize  when  fear  is  laid  asleep ; 
And  ill-foreboded  is  our  strongest  guard." 

—  Young. 

ST. 's  dawn  was  welcomed  by  joyous   peals 

from  the  church- bells,  and  the  occasional  firing  of  a 
few  muskets,  by  way  of  accompaniment.  The  sun 
rose  with  a  brilliance  which  would  have  awakened 
deep  tones  in  Memnon's  statue,  and  gilded  mountain 
and  valley.  Beautiful  beyond  description  the  city 
looked  in  his  golden  light,  and 

"  All  nature  seemed  rejoicing." 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  39 

Half  hid  by  a  majestic  live-oak  which  shaded  the 
front,  and  within  a  few  yards  of  the  river,  stood  a 
small  white  house.  It  was  built  of  adobes,  and  con- 
tained only  three  rooms.  Instead  of  reaching  these 
by  a  broad  flight,  one  step  from  the  threshold  placed 
you  on  the  ground.  The  floor  was  covered,  and,  as 
usual,  of  cement.  In  one  corner  of  the  front  apart- 
ment stood  a  side-board  with  glass  of  various  kinds, 
and  a  few  handsome  pieces  of  plate.  Its  vis-b-vis 
was  a  range  of  shelves,  filled  with  books;  and  on  the 
plain  deal  mantel-piece  stood  a  pair  of  neat  China 
vases,  decked  with  brilliant  prairie  flowers.  Before 
the  open  window  was  placed  the  table,  arranged  for 
the  morning  meal.  How  pure  the  cloth  looked,  how 
clear  the  glass;  and  then  the  bouquet  of  fragrant 
roses  which  adorned  the  centre,  how  homelike,  fresh, 
and  beautiful  it  seemed !  An  air  of  comfort,  Ameri- 
can, southern  comfort — pervaded  the  whole.  The 
breakfast  was  brought  in  by  a  middle-aged  negress, 
whose  tidy  appearance,  and  honest,  happy,  smiling 
face  presented  the  best  refutation  of  the  gross 
slanders  of  our  northern  brethren.  I  would  that  her 
daguerreotype,  as  she  stood  arranging  the  dishes, 
could  be  contrasted  with  those  of  the  miserable,  half- 
starved  seamstresses  of  Boston  and  New  York,  who 
toil  from  dawn  till  dark,  with  aching  head  and  throb- 
bing heart,  over  some  weary  article,  for  which  they 
receive  the  mighty  recompense  of  a  shilling. 

When  she  had  arranged  every  dish  with  great  ex- 
actness, a  small  bell  was  rung;  and,  waiter  in  hand, 
she  stood  ready  to  attend  the  family. 


4O  INEZ  ;   A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO. 

A  bright,  young  face  appeared  at  the  open  window. 

"  I  hope,  Aunt  Fanny,  you  have  a  nice  breakfast. 
You  have  no  idea  what  an  appetite  my  walk  has 
given  me." 

"  Now,  Miss  Mary,  ain't  my  cooking  always  nice?" 

"  Indeed,  it  is.  Your  coffee  would  not  disgrace  a 
pacha's  table;  and  your  rolls  are 

'  The  whitest,  the  lightest,  that  ever  were  seen.' " 

She  disappeared  from  the  window,  and  entered 
the  room  just  as  Mr.  Hamilton  came  in,  followed  by 
Florence. 

"  My  dear  uncle,  have  you  forgotten  the  old  adage 
of  '  early  to  bed,  add  early  to  rise  ?' " 

"  I  am  not  sure  that  I  ever  learned  it,  Mary;"  he 
drily  replied,  seating  himself  at  the  table. 

"One  would  suppose  you  had  taken  a  draught  from 
the  '  Elixir  of  Life;'  "  said  Florence,  glancing  affec- 
tionately at  her  beaming  face. 

"  I  have  discovered  the  fountain  of  perpetual 
youth,  so  vainly  sought  in  South  America!" 

"  Indeed !    Is  it  located  in  this  vicinity  ?" 

"  Yes;  and  if  you  will  rise  to-morrow  with  Aurora, 
when  '  she  sprinkles  with  rosy  light  the  dewy  lawn,' 
I  will  promise  to  conduct  you  to  it." 

"  Thank  you ;  but  Mary,  what  induced  you  to  ram- 
ble so  early?" 

"  I  have  been  nearly  two  miles  for  some  roots  Mrs. 
Carlton  expressed  a  wish  for.  See,  Florry,  how  I 
have  dyed  my  hands  pulling  them  up !" 

"  Were  you  alone,  Mary  ?"  asked  Mr.  Hamilton. 


INEZ  J   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  41 

*'  I  was,  most  of  the  time.  As  I  came  back,  Dr. 
Bryant  overtook  me.  He  spent  the  night  at  San  Jose 
mission,  with  a  sick  Mexican,  and  was  returning. 
But  where  is  Aunt  Lizzy  ?"  continued  Mary,  with 
an  inquiring  glance  round  the  room. 

"  She  went  to  mass  this  morning,"  replied  her 
cousin. 

"  Oh,  yes !  It  is  St. 's  day.  I  heard  the  bells 

at  daybreak." 

"  It  is  a  savage,  heathenish  custom  they  have 
adopted  here,  of  tearing  up  and  down  the  streets 
from  morning  till  night.  I  wish,  by  Jove!  they 
would  ride  over  their  canting  Padre !  I  think  he 
would  find  some  other  mode  of  celebrating  the  fes- 
tival!" 

"  He  would  lay  claim  to  saintship  on  the  strength 
of  it,"  replied  Mary. 

"  You  had  better  keep  out  of  the  street  to-day, 
girls,"  rejoined  Mr.  Hamilton,  pushing  his  cup  away, 
and  rising  from  the  table. 

At  this  moment  Aunt  Lizzy  entered ;  and  after  the 
morning  salutation,  turned  toward  the  door. 

"  You  are  later  than  usual  this  morning,  aunt. 
Do  sit  down  and  eat  your  breakfast,  or  it  will  be  so 
cold  you  can  not  touch  it,"  said  Mary. 

"  No  really  devout  Catholic  tastes  food  on  this  holy 
day,"  she  answered,  motioning  it  from  her. 

"  It  must  be  quite  a  penance  to  abstain,  after  your 
long  walk,"  said  Mr.  Hamilton  with  a  smile. 

"  Father  Mazzolin  said,  this  morning,  that  all  who 
kept  this  holy  day  would  add  a  bright  jewel  to  their 


42  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

crown,  and  obtain  the  eternal  intercession  of  the 
blessed  saint ;"  and  she  left  the  room. 

"  That  falsehood  adds  another  stone  to  the  many 
that  will  sink  him  in  the  lake  of  perdition,  if  there 
be  one !"  muttered  Mr.  Hamilton,  as  he  departed  for 
the  counting-room.  The  last  few  sentences  had 
fallen  unheeded  on  Florence's  ear,  for  she  sat  look- 
ing out  the  window,  her  thoughts  evidently  far  away. 
But  every  trace  of  merriment  vanished  from  Mary's 
face,  and  instead  of  her  bright  smile,  a  look  of  pain- 
ful anxiety  settled  there.  A  long  silence  ensued; 
Mary  stood  by  the  table,  wiping  the  cups  as  Aunt 
Fanny  rinsed  them,  and  occasionally  glancing  at  her 
cousin.  At  length  she  said, 

"  Florry,  will  you  walk  over  to  Mrs.  Carlton's  with 
me  ?  I  promised  to  go,  and  the  walk  will  do  you 
good,  for  indeed  your  cheeks  are  paler  than  I  like  to 
see  them." 

"  Certainly,  Mary,  but  do  you  remember  what 
father  said  about  our  remaining  at  home  to-day  ?" 

"  There  is  no  danger,  Florry,  if  we  only  look  about 
us;  and  I  really  must  go." 

"  Well  then,  let  us  start  at  once." 

In  a  few  moments  they  set  out,  equipped  in  large 
straw  hats,  and  equally  large  gloves;  in  addition, 
Mary  carried  in  her  hand  a  basket  filled  with  herbs 
and  flowers. 

"  If  we  walk  briskly,  we  shall  get  there  before  any 
of  the  riders  set  forth.  Ah !  I  am  mistaken,  there 
they  come.  Florry,  don't  go  so  near  the  street :  that 


INEZ  ;   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  43 

horseman  in  blue  looks  as  though  he  were  riding  on 
ice — see  how  his  horse  slides  about !" 

A  party  of  twenty  or  thirty  thundered  past,  and 
the  girls  quickened  their  pace.  A  few  minutes' 
walk  brought  them  to  Mrs.  Carlton's  door,  which 
closed  after  them. 

That  lady  was  reading,  as  they  entered,  but  threw 
&side  her  book,  and  advanced  joyously  to  greet  them. 
She  kissed  Mary  affectionately,  and  cordially  shook 
Florence's  hand. 

"  I  am  glad  you  came,  Mary.  I  feared  you  would 
not,  and  really  I  want  you  very  much." 

44  What  can  I  do,  Mrs.  Carlton  ?" 

44  You  can  take  off  your  hat  and  gloves,  and  pre- 
pare yourselves  to  spend  the  day  with  me." 

They  laughingly  complied,  protesting,  however, 
that  they  could  only  remain  a  short  time. 

44  Mary,  my  poor  blind  proselyte  died  yesterday, 
and  bequeathed  her  orphan  child  to  me:  I  feel  al- 
most obliged  to  accept  the  charge,  for  her  fear  lest  it 
should  fall  into  the  Padre's  hands  was  painful  to  be- 
hold, and  I  promised  to  protect  it,  if  possible.  The 
poor  little  fellow  is  nearly  destitute  of  clothes;  I  have 
cut  some  for  him,  and  knew  you  would  assist  me  in 
making  them." 

44  With  pleasure,  dear  Mrs.  Carlton,  and  so  will 
Florry;  fill  my  basket  with  work,  and  we  will  soon 
have  him  a  suit.  Oh !  how  glad  I  am  that  he  has 
such  kind  friends  as  yourself  and  husband." 

44  The  Padre  came  last  night  to  demand  the  child, 
but  we  refused  to  give  him  up:  he  said  he  intended 


44  INEZ  ;   A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO. 

clothing  and  educating  the  boy  free  of  charge ;  yet 
I  knew  better,  for  he  refused  to  baptize  Madame 
Berara's  orphan-niece  without  the  customary  fee? 
though  he  well  knew  she  could  ill  afford  it,  and  was 
compelled  to  sell  her  last  cow  to  make  up  the  requi- 
site sum.  I  feel  assured  he  will  do  all  in  his  power 
to  entice  Erasmo  from  me;  but  hope  by  constant 
watchfulness  to  counteract  his  influence.  Oh !  Mary, 
how  much  we  need  a  Protestant  minister  here :  one 
who  could  effectually  stem  the  tide  of  superstition 
and  degradation  that  now  flows  unimpeded  through 
this  community.  Oh !  my  dear  friend,  let  us  take 
courage,  and  go  boldly  forth  in  the  cause  of  truth, 
and  strive  to  awaken  all  from  the  lethargy  into  which 
they  have  fallen — a  lethargy  for  which  their  priests 
are  alone  responsible,  for  they  administered  the 
deadly  drug." 

"  I  feel  as  deeply  as  yourself,  dear  Mrs.  Carlton, 
the  evil  tendency  and  deplorable  consequences  of 
the  institutions  by  which  we  are  surrounded,  and 
the  little  that  I  can  do  will  be  gladly,  oh  how  gladly! 
contributed  to  the  work  of  reformation  you  have  so 
nobly  begun." 

"  You  forget,  Mary,  in  your  proselyting  enthusiasm, 
that  Aunt  Lizzy  belongs  to  the  despised  sect ;  surely 
you  can  not  intend  by  attacks  on  her  religion  to 
render  her  home  unpleasant  ?"  said  Florence. 

Mary's  eyes  filled  with  tears,  as  she  glanced  re- 
proachfully at  her  cousin,  and  replied, 

"  Nothing  is  further  from  my  wishes,  Plorry,  than 
to  make  her  home  other  than  happy.  Aunt  Lizzy 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THB  ALAMO.  45 

has  every  opportunity  of  informing  herself  on  this 
important  question.  Yet  she  prefers  the  easier 
method,  of  committing  her  conscience  to  the  care 
of  the  priest;  she  has  chosen  her  path  in  life,  and 
determinately  doses  her  eyes  to  every  other.  The 
state  of  the  Mexicans  around  us  is  by  no  means  anal- 
ogous. They  were  allowed  no  choice.  Bred  from 
infancy  in  the  Romish  faith,  they  are  totally  un- 
acquainted with  the  tenets  of  other  creeds.  Implicit 
obedience  to  the  Padre  is  their  primary  law,  the 
grand  ruling  principle  of  life,  instilled  from  their 
birth.  To  lay  before  them  the  truths  of  our  own 

*  pure  and  undelfiled  religion,'  is   both  a  privilege 
and  duty." 

"  You   spoke   just   now,    Miss   Florence,  of    the 

*  despised  sect ;'  allow  me,  in  all  modesty,  to  say,  that 
to  the  true  and  earnest  Christian  there  is  no  such 
class.     Believe  me,  when  I  say,  that  though  deeply 
commiserating  their  unhappy  condition,  and  resolved 
to  do  all  in  my  power  to  alleviate  it,  still  I  would 
as   cheerfully  assist    the  conscientious   Papist,  and 
tender  him  the  hospitalities  of  my  home,  as  one  of 
my  own  belief." 

"  You  have  expressed  my  feelings  exactly,  Mrs. 
Carlton,  and  there  are  times  when  I  wish  myself  a 
missionary,  that  I  might  carry  light  to  this  benighted 
race,"  exclaimed  Mary,  enthuiastically. 

"  We  are  very  apt,  my  dear  child,  to  consider 
ourselves  equal  to  emergencies,  arid  capable  of  great 
actions,  when  a  strict  examination  would  declare 
that  the  minor  deeds  and  petty  trials  which  test  the 


46  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

temper  and  the  strength  too  often  destroy  our 
equanimity,  and  show  our  inability  to  cope  with  dif- 
ficulties. Woman's  warfare  is  with  little  things,  yet 
we  are  assured  by  the  greatest  of  all  female  writers, 
that  *  trifles  make  the  sum  of  human  things;'  there- 
fore, let  us  strive  more  and  more  earnestly  to  obtain 
perfect  control  of  ourselves ;  then  shall  we  be  enabled 
to  assist  others." 

"  I  often  think,"  replied  Mary,  thoughtfully, "  that 
we  make  great  sacrifices  with  comparative  ease,  be- 
cause we  feel  our  own  insufficiency,  and  rely  more 
on  God  for  assistance;  while  in  lesser  troubles  we 
are  so  confident  of  success,  that  we  neglect  to  ask 
his  blessing,  and  consequently  fail  in  our  unaided 
attempts." 

"  You  are  right,  Mary,  and  it  should  teach  us  to 
distrust  our  powers,  and  lead  us  to  lean  upon  *  Him, 
who  is  a  very  precious  help  in  time  of  need.'  " 

A  long  silence  ensued,  broken  at  length  by  the 
entrance  of  Mrs.  Carlton's  two  children,  who  carried 
a  large  basket  between  them.  Hastily  they  set  it 
down,  seeing  Mary,  and  sprung  to  her  side:  the 
little  girl  clung  around  her  neck,  and  kissed  her  re- 
peatedly. 

"  Maria,  you  are  too  boisterous,  my  little  girl ;  Miss 
Mary  will  have  no  cause  to  doubt  your  affection. 
Elliot,  why  do  you  not  speak  to  Miss  Florence,  my 
son  ?" 

Blushing  at  his  oversight,  the  boy  obeyed,  and, 
joined  by  his  sister,  stood  at  his  mother's  side.  Maria 


INEZ  J  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  47 

whispered  something  in  his  ear,  but  he  only  shook 
his  head  and  replied, 

"  Not  now,  sister,  let  us  wait." 

She  hesitated  a  moment,  then  laid  her  little  hand 
on  Mrs.  Carlton's  shoulder: 

"  Mother,  I  know  you  said  it  was  rude  to  whisper 
in  company,  but  I  want  to  tell  you  something  very 
much." 

Mrs.  Carlton  smiled. 

"  I  am  sure  the  young  ladies  will  excuse  you,  my 
daughter,  if  it  is  important."  She  bent  her  head, 
and  a  prolonged  whispering  followed.  A  flush  rose 
to  the  mother's  cheek  and  a  tear  to  her  eyes,  as  she 
clasped  her  to  her  heart,  and  said: 

"  I  wish  you,  my  children,  to  speak  out,  and  tell 
all  you  know  of  this  affair." 

Elliot  was  spokesman. 

"  We  went  into  the  garden  as  you  desired  us, 
mother,  and  Erasmo  and  I  picked  the  peas,  while 
sister  held  the  basket ;  presently  we  heard  a  noise 
in  the  brush  fence  like  something  coming  through, 
and  sister  got  frightened  (here  he  laughed),  and 
wanted  to  run  to  the  house,  but  we  told  her  it  was 
only  a  sheep  or  dog  outside;  but  it  turned  out  to  be 
the  Padre,  and  he  came  and  helped  us  to  pick. 
Mother,  he  told  us  such  pretty  stories;  I  can't  think 
of  the  names;  they  must  have  oeen  Dutch,  they 
were  so  long  and  hard.  But  I  remember  one  of  the 
tales ;  he  said  there  was  once  a  good  man  who  lived 
in  Asia,  and  one  day  he  lost  his  crucifix;  he  looked 
every  where  for  it,  but  could  not  find  it;  and  a  long 


48  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

time  afterward,  he  happened  to  be  walking  by  the 
sea-shore  and  looked  out  on  the  water,  and  oh,  what 
do  you  think  ?  He  saw  his  crucifix  moving  on  the 
water,  and  a  great  crab  paddled  out  to  land  and  laid 
his  crucifix  down  before  him,  and  then  paddled  right 
back  into  the  sea  again.  Now  wasn't  that  funny. 
I  can't  think  of  the  good  man's  name,  Saint — Some- 
body— Saint — Saint " 

"  Brother,  I  reckon  it  was  Saint  Crab !" 

"  No,  no !  It  was  the  crab  that  found  the  crucifix, 
and  I  think  he  was  smarter  than  the  Saint." 

"  Now,  Florry,  should  I  repeat  this  legend  to  Aunt 
Lizzy,  it  would  be  impossible  to  convince  her  that  it 
proceeded  from  the  Padre's  lips.  Yet  even  prelates 
of  Rome  scruple  not  to  narrate  as  miracles  tales 
equally  absurd,  where  their  auditory  is  sufficiently 
ignorant  to  credit  them.  Pardon  my  interruption, 
Elliot,  and  finish  your  story,"  continued  Mary. 

"  Mother,  the  Padre  talked  to  Erasmo  in  Spanish. 
I  could  not  understand  all  he  said,  but  it  was  about 
coming  to  live  with  him,  and  going  to  Mexico,  to 
see  the  sights  there.  When  he  came  to  the  rows  you 
left  for  seed,  I  told  him  we  must  come  to  the  house, 
and  asked  him  to  come  in;  but  he  would  not,  and 
offered  us  all  some  money,  and  said  we  must  not  tell 
a  soul  we  had  seen  him,  for  he  happened  to  see  us 
through  the  fence,  and  just  came  in  to  speak  to  us, 
and  you  and  father  might  think  he  ought  not  to 
come  into  our  garden.  But  oh,  mother,  would  you 
believe  it !  he  told  Erasmo,  as  he  went  off,  that  he 
must  ask  you  to  let  him  go  to  bathe  to-morrow;  and 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  49 

instead  of  going  to  the  river,  he  must  come  to  the 
church :  he  wanted  to  give  him  something.  He  told 
him  in  Spanish,  but  I  understood  what  he  said.  Now 
wasn't  that  teaching  him  to  tell  a  lie  ?  and  he  a 
Padre  too !  Mother,  don't  you  think  he  ought  to  be 
ashamed  ?" 

"  Elliot,  if  you  would  gladden  the  hearts  of  your 
father  and  mother,  be  ever  truthful.  Remember 
the  story  of  '  Pedro  and  Francisco '  you  read  not 
long  ago,  and  put  dishonesty  and  dissimulation  far 
from  you :  '  honesty  is  the  best  policy,'  and  if  you 
adhere  to  it  through  life,  it  will  prove  of  '  far  more 
worth  than  gold.'  Be  sure  you  keep  nothing  from 
me,  particularly  what  the  Padre  may  say." 

"  Shall  we  take  the  peas  out  under  the  hackberry 
and  shell  them  ?"  said  Maria. 

"  Yes,  my  dear,  but  first  tell  me  where  Erasmo 
is." 

"  Sitting  on  the  steps,  mother.  I  know  he  will 
help  us  to  shell  them,  for  he  said  it  was  mere  fun 
picking  peas." 

"  Say  nothing  to  him  of  the  Padre  or  his  conver- 
sation, but  interest  him  about  other  things." 

They  left  the  room  swinging  the  basket  between 
them.  Mrs.  Carlton's  eyes  filled  as  she  looked  after 
her  children.  "  A  mother's  care  can  do  a  great  deal, 
yet  how  little  did  I  imagine  that  temptation  would 
assail  them  at  such  a  time,  and  in  such  a  garb." 

"  Oh,  guard  them  carefully;  for,  surrounded  by 
these  influences,  it  will  be  difficult  to  prevent  con- 
tamination," said  Mary,  earnestly. 


gO  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

Just  then  a  loud  shout  from  the  street  attracted 
their  attention,  and  hastening  to  the  door,  they  per- 
ceived a  crowd  gathered  on  the  Plaza.  In  the  cen- 
tre was  a  body  of  Mexican  cavalry,  headed  by  their 
commanding  officer,  who,  hat  in  hand,  was  harangu- 
ing them.  The  ladies  looked  at  each  other  in  dis- 
may. 

**  To  what  does  this  tend?"  asked  Mary,  anxiously. 

"  My  husband  told  me  several  days  since  that  Aus- 
tin was  imprisoned  in  Mexico,  and  said  he  feared 
difficulties  would  ensue,  but  knew  not  the  cause  of 
his  confinement." 

"  There  is  Dr.  Bryant  coming  towards  us ;  I  dare 
say  he  can  tell  us  the  meaning  of  this  commotion." 

That  gentleman,  bowing  low  in  the  saddle,  reined 
his  steed  as  near  the  step  as  possible. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Miss  Hamilton,  and  you,  my 
dear  sister?  I  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  Miss 
Mary  in  her  morning  rambles;  she  is  a  most  remark- 
able young  lady.  Assures  me  she  actually  loves  early 
rising."  His  dark  eyes  were  fixed  laughingly  upon 
her. 

"  Do  stop  your  nonsense,  Frank,  and  tell  us  the 
cause  of  that  crowd,"  said  Mrs.  Carlton  laying  her 
hand  on  his  arm. 

"  My  dear  sister,  that  tall,  cadaverous-looking  cav- 
alier is  the  brother-in-law  of  Santa  Anna,  and  no  less 
a  personage  than  General  Cos,  sent  hither  to  fortify 
this  and  every  other  susceptible  place." 

"  Against  whom  or  what?'* 

"  It  is  a  long  story,  ladies.    You  know  that  Coahnila 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  51 

has  pursued  an  oppressive  policy  toward  us  for  some 
time,  and  refused  to  hear  reason  ;  Austin  remon- 
strated again  and  again,  and  at  last  went  to  Mexico, 
hoping  that  the  authorities  would  allow  us  (here  he 
bit  his  lip,  and  his  cheek  flushed) — it  galls  my  spirit 
to  utter  the  word — allow  us  to  form  a  separate  State. 
The  Congress  there  took  no  notice  of  his  petition, 
for,  in  truth,  they  were  too  much  engaged  just  then 
about  their  own  affairs  to  heed  him,  and  he  wrote  to 
several  persons  in  Austin,  advising  them  at  all  haz- 
ards to  proceed.  Some  cowardly  wretch,  or  spy  in 
disguise,  secretly  despatched  one  of  his  letters  to  the 
ministers;  consequently,  as  Austin  was  returning, 
they  made  him  prisoner,  and  carried  him  back  to 
Mexico.  Santa  Anna  is  at  the  head  of  affairs.  He 
has  subverted  the  too  liberal  constitution  of  1824, 
but  is  opposed  by  a  few  brave  hearts,  who  scorn  the 
servitude  in  store  for  them.  Santa  Anna  knows  full 
well  that  we  will  not  submit  to  his  crushing  yoke, 
and  therefore  sends  General  Cos  to  fortify  the  Alamo. 
This  is  the  only  definite  information  I  have  been  able 
to  glean  from  several  sources." 

"  Do  you  think  there  is  probability  of  a  war?" 

"  It  will  most  inevitably  ensue,  for  total  submission 
will  be  exacted  by  Santa  Anna,  and  the  Texans  are 
not  a  people  to  comply  with  any  such  conditions." 

"  You  think  General  Cos  is  here  to  fortify  the 
Alamo  ?" 

"  Yes ;  the  work  commences  to-morrow,  I  hear, 
and  the  fort  will  be  garrisoned  by  Spanish  troops." 

Vol.  6  C— Evans 


52  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

**  How  many  has  he  with  him  ?"  inquired  his 
sister. 

"  Only  fifty  or  sixty;  this  is  merely  the  advanced 
guard,  and  the  main  body  will  probably  arrive  in  a 
few  days." 

"  I  suppose  they  are  joyously  welcomed  by  the 
Mexicans  here,  who  have  ever  regarded  with  jealous 
eyes  Protestant  settlers." 

"  Oh,  yes,  that  shout  testified  the  hearty  welcome 
they  received." 

At  this  moment  Mr.  Hamilton  joined  the  group. 

"  Have  you  heard  the  news?"  he  inquired. 

"  Yes,  and  sad  enough  it  is,"  said  Mary  with  a 
sigh. 

*'  It  will  be  a  bloody  conflict." 

"  I  am  afraid  so,"  replied  Dr.  Bryant. 

"  Come,  girls,  I  am  going  home,  will  you  go  now?** 

Mary  took  her  basket,  which  Mrs.  Carlton  had 
filled  with  work,  and  they  descended  the  steps. 

"  I  declare,  Miss  Irving,  I  have  a  great  desire  to 
know  what  that  basket  contains;  it  is  as  inseparably 
your  companion  as  was  the  tub  of  Diogenes.  I  often 
see  it  round  a  corner  before  you  are  visible,  and  at 
the  glimpse  of  it,  invariably  sit  more  erect  in  saddle 
and  assume  my  most  amiable  expression." 

He  raised  himself  and  peeped  inquiringly  over  the 
edge ;  Mary  swung  it  playfully  behind  her. 

"  I  never  gratify  idle  curiosity,  Dr.  Bryant.1' 

"  Indeed,  how  very  remarkable ;  but  I  assure  you 
I  know  full  well  the  use  to  which  those  same  herbs 
you  had  this  morning  are  to  be  applied;  you  are 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  53 

amalgamating  nauseous  drugs  and  certain  pills  to 
be  administered  to  my  patients.  I  am  grieved  to 
think  you  would  alienate  what  few  friends  I  have 
here,  by  raising  yourself  up  as  a  competitor.  Pray, 
where  did  you  receive  your  diploma  ?  and  are  you 
Thomsonian,  Allopathic,  Homeopathic,  or  Hydro- 
pathic?" 

Mary  looked  at  Mrs.  Carlton;  both  smiled. 

"  Ah !  I  see  Ellen  is  associated  with  you.  Do  ad- 
mit me  to  partnership ;  I  should  be  a  most  valuable 
acquisition,  take  my  word  for  it.  A  more  humble- 
minded,  good-hearted,  deeply-read,  and  experienced 
disciple  of^EsculapiuB  never  felt  pulse  or  adminis- 
tered a  potion," 

They  laughed  outright. 

"  Mary,  shall  we  tell  Frank  what  we  intend  those 
herbs  for  ?" 

"  By  no  means;  he  does  not  deserve  to  know." 

"  Ah !  I  see  Terence  was  right  after  all  in  his 
opinion  of  woman's  nature — '  When  you  request, 
they  refuse;  when  you  forbid,  they  are  sure  to  do  it.1  " 

"  Come,  girls,  come !  I  have  business  at  home ;" 
said  Mr.  Hamilton,  and  they  set  out  homeward. 
They  had  not  proceeded  far  when  Mary  exclaimed, 
pointing  behind  her: 

"  Oh,  uncle,  that  woman  will  be  killed !  Can  no- 
body help  her  ?" 

"  She  wiH  certainly  be  thrown  from  her  horse !" 

A  party  of  five  or  six  Mexicans  were  riding  with 
their  usual  rapidity  toward  them.  An  elderly  woman 
in  the  rear  had  evidently  lost  control  of  her  fiery 


54  INEZ  :  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

horse  which  was  plunging  violently.  The  other 
members  of  the  company  seemed  unable  to  render 
any  assistance,  as  their  own  could  scarcely  be  re- 
strained. The  unfortunate  Sefiora  was  almost  para- 
lyzed with  fright;  for  instead  of  checking  him  by 
the  reins,  they  had  fallen  over  his  head,  become  en- 
tangled in  his  feet,  and  now  grasping  the  mane,  she 
was  shrieking  fearfully. 

"  Oh,  can't  we  do  something  for  her!"  cried  Mary, 
clasping  her  hands. 

"  I  do  not  see  how  we  can  assist  her,"  said  Mr. 
Hamilton. 

"  At  least  [let  us  try;"  and  they  hastened  to  the 
spot  where  the  infuriated  animal  was  struggling. 

"  Stand  back,  girls!  you  can  do  nothing." 

He  made  several  ineffectual  attempts  to  catch  the 
bridle  as  the  fore-feet  rose  in  the  air,  and  at  last  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  one  end.  He  bade  the  woman  let 
go  the  mane  and  slide  off.  She  did  so,  but  some 
portion  of  her  dress  was  caught  in  the  saddle,  and 
she  hung  suspended.  The  horse,  feeling  the  move- 
ment, again  plunged,  despite  Mr.  Hamilton's  efforts 
to  hold  him  down.  The  scene  was  distressing  in- 
deed, as  she  was  raised  and  then  flung  down  again. 

Mary  saw  the  danger,  and  rushing  round  the  en- 
raged horse,  fearlessly  pushed  off  the  piece  which 
was  attached  to  the  pommel  of  the  saddle,  and  freed 
the  unf ortunat  e  m  atron.  The  horse ,  feeling  relieved 
of  his  burden,  gave  a  desperate  bound  and  rushed 
off  down  the  street. 

Florence  shrieked  and  sprung  to  her  father's  side. 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  55 

Mary  was  bending  over  the  moaning  woman,  but 
turned  suddenly  and  saw  her  uncle  stretched  at 
Florence's  feet.  He  was  insensible,  and  a  stream  of 
blood  oozed  from  his  lips.  They  raised  his  head 
and  motioned  to  the  Mexicans  that  now  gathered 
round,  for  water;  some  was  hastily  procured,  and 
then  Mary  entreated  one  of  them  to  go  for  Dr.  Bry- 
ant ;  as  she  spoke,  the  tramp  of  hoofs  caused  her  to 
look  up  and  she  perceived  him  urging  his  horse  to- 
ward them.  He  flung  the  reins  to  a  man  who  stood 
near,  and  bent  over  the  prostrate  form. 

"  There  is  some  internal  injury,  I  see  no  outward 
wound;  how  did  this  happen  ?" 

Florence  briefly  explained  the  manner  in  which 
her  father  received  a  kick  on  the  chest.  Happily 
they  were  near  their  own  home,  and,  with  the  assis- 
tance of  two  men,  Dr.  Bryant  carefully  bore  him  in 
and  laid  him  on  a  couch  near  the  open  window.  A 
restorative  was  administered,  and  soon  the  sufferer 
opened  his  eyes.  The  flow  of  blood  had  ceased,  but 
he  lay  quite  exhausted. 

The  physician  examined  the  wounded  place  and 
assured  Florence  there  was  no  fracture. 

"  I  am  afraid  some  blood-vessel  is  ruptured,"  said 
she  anxiously. 

"  It  is  only  a  small  one,  I  hope,  but  cannot  tell  cer- 
tainly for  several  days.  He  must  be  perfectly  quiet; 
the  least  excitement  might  prove  fatal  by  causing  a 
fresh  hemorrhage." 

Nearly  a  week  passed,  and  one  evening  Mary  fol- 
lowed the  physician  as  he  left  the  house;  he  heard 


56  INEZ  J   A  TALE   OF  THE   ALAMO. 

her  step  and  turned.  His  usually  laughing  counte- 
nance was  grave  and  anxious;  but  he  strove  to  seem 
cheerful. 

"  Doctor,  I  wish  to  know  what  you  think  of  my 
uncle's  case;  we  are  afraid  it  is  more  serious  than 
you  at  first  pronounced  it." 

"  It  is  better  that  you  should  know  the  worst.  I 
am  pained  to  grieve  you,  but  candor  compels  me  to 
say  that  a  fatal  injury  has  been  inflicted.  I  hoped 
for  the  best,  but  an  examination  this  evening  con- 
firmed my  fears." 

Mary  sobbed  bitterly  and  long.  Dr.  Bryant  sought 
not  to  comfort  her  by  exciting  false  hopes,  but  paced 
up  and  down  the  gravel- walk  beside  her. 

"  You  do  not  fear  a  rapid  termination  of  the  dis- 
order ?"  she  said  at  last,  in  a  low,  trembling  tone. 

"  He  may  linger  some  days,  but  I  do  not  think  it 
probable  that  he  will." 

"  Florry,  Florry!  what  is  to  become  of  us!"  cried 
the  weeping  girl  in  a  voice  of  agony.  "  Oh,  God! 
spare  him  to  us !" 

"  Do  you  think  your  cousin  comprehends  her 
father's  danger  ?" 

"  She  fears  the  worst  and  requested  me  this  even- 
ing to  ask  your  opinion.  Oh,  how  can  I  tell  her  that 
he  must  die !" 

"  Do  not  crush  all  hope  (though  I  have  none) ;  let 
her  believe  that  he  may  recover.  She  is  not  of  a 
temperament  to  bear  prolonged  agony.  The  shock 
will  be  'less  painful,  rest  assured.  Believe  me,  I 
deeply  sympathize  with  you  both."  And  pressing 
her  hand,  he  withdrew. 


INEZ  J  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  57 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

"See!  the  dappled  gray  coursers  of  the  morn 
Beat  up  the  light  with  their  bright  silver  hoofs, 
And  chase  it  through  the  sky  1? 

-Marston. 

INEZ  left  her  father's  door  as  the  last  notes  of  the 
matin  bell  died  away  on  the  cool,  clear  morning  air. 
She  held  in  her  hand  a  silken  scarf,  which,  accord- 
ing to  the  custom  of  her  country,  was  thrown  lightly 
across  the  head,  and  confined  at  the  chin. 

Beautiful  she  looked,  with  the  feverish  glow  on  her 
cheek,  and  her  large  Spanish  eyes,  restless  and 
piercing,  flashing  out  at  times  the  thoughts  of  her 
inmost  soul.  She  threw  the  mantilla  round  her 
head,  and  turned  toward  the  church.  The  step  was 
firm  yet  hasty.  She  seemed  endeavoring  to  escape 
from  herself. 

The  streets  were  silent,  and  the  Plaza  deserted, 
and  naught  seemed  stirring  save  the  swallows  that 
twittered  and  circled  round  and  round  the  belfry  of 
the  church.  There  was  something  soothing  in  the 
deep  stillness  that  reigned  on  that  balmy  morning, 
and  Inez  felt  its  influence.  She  paused  at  the  en- 
trance of  the  gray  old  church,  and  stretched  forth 
her  arms  to  the  rosy  east. 

"  Peace,  peace!"  she  murmured,  in  a  weary  tone, 
and  sunk  her  head  upon  her  bosom.  The  door 


58  INEZ  ;  A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO. 

opened  behind  her,  and  raising  herself  proudly,  she 
drew  the  scarf  closer  about  her,  and  entered. 

A  basin  of  holy  water  was  placed  near,  and  has- 
tily she  signed  the  figure  of  the  cross,  and  pro- 
ceeded down  the  aisle  to  a  side  door  leading  to  one 
of  the  wings.  She  pushed  it  noiselessly  ajar,  and 
passed  in. 

A  solitary  tin  sconce  dimly  lighted  the  small  con- 
fessional, dark  and  gloomy  as  night,  at  that  early 
hour.  A  wooden  cross  suspended  from  the  wall,  a 
stone  bench  and  table,  on  which  lay  a  rosary  and 
crucifix,  and  a  small  vessel  of  holy  water,  formed  the 
entire  furniture.  Before  this  table  sat  Father  Maz- 
zolin,  his  face  buried  in  his  hands.  Her  step,  light 
as  it  was,  startled  him;  yet  without  rising,  he  mur- 
mured, "  Benedicit." 

"  Buefios  dias,  Padre." 

He  motioned  to  her  to  kneel,  and  she  did  so,  on 
the  damp  floor  at  his  feet,  drawing  the  scarf  over 
her  face,  so  as  to  conceal  the  features. 

"  Bless  me,  my  Father,  because  I  have  sinned." 

He  laid  his  hands  on  her  bowed  head,  and  mut- 
tered, indistinctly,  a  Latin  phrase.  "  I  confess  to 
Almighty  God,  to  blessed  Mary,  ever  Virgin,  to 
blessed  Michael  the  Archangel,  to  blessed  John  the 
Baptist,  to  the  holy  apostles  Peter  and  Paul,  and  to 
all  the  saints,  that  I  have  sinned  exceedingly  in 
thought,  word,  and  deed,  through  my  most  grievous 
fault.  Therefore  I  beseech  the  blessed  Mary,  ever 
Virgin,  the  blessed  Michael  the  Archangel,  the 
blessed  John  the  Baptist,  the  holy  apostles  Peter  and 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE   ALAMO.  59 

Paul,  and  all  the  saints,  to  pray  to  the  Lord  our  God 
for  me. 

"  Since  my  last  confession,  I  accuse  myself  of 
many  sins.  I  have  missed  mass,  vespers,  and  many 
holy  ordinances  of  our  most  holy  church.  Have 
borne  hatred,  and  given  most  provoking  language. 

"  I  have  broken  the  engagement  thou  didst  com- 
mand me  to  keep;  have  angered  Mafiuel,  and  en- 
raged my  father  greatly.  I  neglected  fasting  on  the 
day  of  our  most  holy  Saint 

"  I  have  entered  this  church,  this  holy  sanctuary, 
without  crossing  myself;  and  passed  the  image  of 
the  blessed  Virgin  without  kneeling."  She  paused, 
and  bent  her  head  lower. 

The  Padre  then  said,  "  My  daughter,  thy  sins  are 
grievous ;  my  heart  bleeds  over  thy  manifold  trans- 
gressions." 

"  Even  so,  my  Father;  even  so." 

*'  Dost  thou  still  bear  enmity  to  Mafiuel  Nevarro, 
who  loves  thee  truly,  and  is  thy  promised  husband  ?" 

"  No,  my  Father;  I  desire  to  be  speedily  recon- 
ciled to  him  whom  I  have  offended." 

"  Wilt  thou  promise  to  offer  no  objection,  but  be- 
come his  wife  ?" 

"  My  Father,  I  do  not  wish  to  be  his  wife;  yet  thy 
will,  not  mine." 

A  smile  of  triumph  glittered  in  the  Padre's  eye  at 
this  confession ;  yet  his  low  tone  was  unchanged. 

**  Inez,  I  will  not  force  thee  to  marry  Mafiuel,  yet 
thou  shalt  never  be  another's  wife.  In  infancy  thou 
wast  promised,  and  thy  hand  can  never  be  joined  to 


60  INEZ  ;  A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO. 

another.  Choose  you,  my  daughter,  and  choose 
quickly." 

"  Padre,  give  me  time.  May  one  so  guilty  as  I 
speak  out  ?*' 

"  Yes,  speak;  for  I  would  have  thine  inmost 
thoughts." 

"  Father,  let  me  spend  a  month  of  peace  and  quiet 
among  the  holy  sisters  at  San  Jose ;  there  will  I  de- 
termine either  to  be  Manuel's  wife,  or  dedicate  the 
remainder  of  my  life  to  the  service  of  God  and  our 
most  Holy -Lady." 

"  You  have  spoken  well ;  even  so  shall  it  be ;  but 
Inez,  I  would  question  you  further,  and  see  you  an- 
swer me  truly,  as  you  desire  the  intercession  of  the 
blessed  Virgin." 

Inez  lifted  her  head,  and  fixing  her  eyes  full  on  his 
swarthy  face,  replied  with  energy: 

"  My  father,  even  as  I  desire  the  intercession  of 
our  blessed  Virgin,  so  will  I  answer." 

The  head  was  bent  again  on  her  bosom.  He  had 
sought  to  read  her  countenance  during  that  brief 
glance,  but  there  was  a  something  in  its  dark  depths 
he  could  not  quite  understand. 

"  My  daughter,  hast  thou  been  of  late  with  that 
Protestant  girl,  by  name  Mary  Irving." 

"  I  have  seen  her  twice  since  last  confession." 

"  Where  did  you  meet  her  ?" 

"  Once  at  Sefiora  Perraras,  and  once  she  came  for 
me,  to  walk  with  her." 

"  Answer  truly.  Upon  what  subject  did  you  con- 
verse ?" 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  6x 

Inez  seemed  striving  to  recall  some  portion  of  what 
had  passed.  At  last  she  said, "  Indeed,  Padre,  I  can* 
not  remember  much  she  said.  It  was  mostly  of 
birds,  and  trees,  and  flowers,  and  something,  I  be- 
lieve, about  this  beautiful  town,  as  she  called  it." 

"  Think  again.  Did  she  not  speak  lightly  of  the 
blessed  church,  and  most  holy  faith  ?  Did  she  not 
strive  to  turn  you  to  her  own  cursed  doctrines,  and, 
above  all,  did  she  not  speak  of  me,  your  Padre,  with 
scorn  ?" 

**  No,  my  father,  most  truly  she  did  not."  Again 
she  raised  her  eyes  to  his  face.  Piercing  was  the 
glance  he  bent  upon  her.  Yet  hers  fell  not  beneath 
it :  calm  and  immovable  she  seemed. 

He  lifted  his  hand  menacingly. 

"  I  bid  you  now  beware  of  her  and  her  friend,  the 
trader's  wife.  They  are  infernal  heretics,  sent 
hither  by  the  evil  one  to  turn  good  Catholics  from 
their  duty.  I  say  again,  beware  of  them !"  and  he 
struck  his  hand  heavily  on  the  table  beside  him. 
"  And  now,  my  daughter,  have  you  relieved  your 
conscience  of  its  burden?  Remember,  one  sin  with- 
held at  confession  will  curse  you  on  your  death-bed, 
and  send  you,  unshriven,  to  perdition!" 

A  sort  of  shudder  ran  through  the  bowed  form  of 
Inez,  and  in  a  low  tone  she  replied,  "  I  also  accuse 
myself  of  all  the  sins  that  may  have  escaped  my 
memory,  and  by  which,  as  well  as  those  I  have  con- 
fessed, I  have  offended  Almighty  God  through  my 
most  grievous  fault." 

"  I  enjoin  upon  you  as  penance  for  the  omission 


62  INEZ  J  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

of  the  holy  ordinances  of  our  most  holy  church,  five 
Credos  when  you  hear  the  matin  bell,  twelve  Paters 
when  noon  comes  round,  and  five  Aves  at  vespers. 
These  shall  you  repeat,  kneeling  upon  the  hard  floor, 
with  the  crucifix  before  you  and  your  rosary  in  your 
hand.  In  addition,  you  must  repair  to  a  cell  of  San 
Jose  and  there  remain  one  month.  Moreover,  you 
shall  see  and  speak  to  none  save  the  holy  sisters. 
And  now,  my  daughter,  I  would  absolve  you." 

Inez  bent  low  while  he  spread  his  hands  above  her 
head  and  pronounced  the  Latin  text  to  that  effect, 
then  bade  her  rise,  and  dismissed  her  with  a  bless- 
ing. 

The  sun  was  just  visible  over  the  eastern  hills  as 
Inez  stepped  upon  the  plaza.  Her  face  was  deadly 
pale  and  the  black  eyes  glittered  strangely. 

"  I  have  knelt  to  you  for  the  last  time,  Father 
Mazzolin.  Long  enough  you  have  crushed  me  to 
the  earth;  one  short  month  of  seeming  servitude, 
and  I  am  free.  Think  you  I  too  can  not  see  the 
gathering  tempest?  For  long  I  have  watched  it  rise. 
It  may  be  that  happiness  is  denied  me;  but  yonder 
gurgling  waters  shall  receive  my  body  ere  I  become 
a  lasting  inmate  of  your  gloomy  cell.  My  plan  works 
well;  even  my  wily  Padre  thinks  me  penitent  for 
the  past !  But  dearly  have  I  bought  my  safety.  I 
have  played  false !  lied !  where  is  my  conscience  ? 
Have  I  one  ?  No,  no !  'tis  dead.  Dead  from  the 
hour  I  listened  to  the  Padre's  teachings !  If  there 
be  a  hereafter,  and,  oh !  if  there  is  a  God,  what  will 
become  of  me  ?"  and  the  girl  shuddered  convulsively. 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  63 

•*  Yet  I  have  heard  him  lie.  I  know  that  even  he 
heeds  not  the  laws  of  his  pretended  God !  He  bade 
me  follow  his  teachings,  and  I  did  and  I  deceived 
him!  Ha!  he  thinks  the  game  all  at  his  fingers' 
ends.  But  I  will  neither  marry  Mafiuel  nor  be  a 
holy  sister  of  Jose.  There  will  come  a  time  for  me. 
Now  I  must  work,  keep  him  in  the  dark,  spend  the 
month  in  seclusion ;  by  that  time  the  troubles  here 
will  begin,  and  who  may  tell  the  issue  ?" 

A  quick  step  behind  her  caused  Inez  to  turn  in 
the  midst  of  her  soliloquy.  Dr.  Bryant  was  hasten- 
ing by,  but  paused  at  sight  of  her  face. 

"  Ah,  Sefiorita!  How  do  you  do  this  beautiful 
morning  ?"  He  looked  at  her  earnestly,  and  added: 
"  You  are  too  pale,  Inez — much  too  pale.  Your  mid- 
night vigils  do  not  agree  with  you;  believe  me  I 
speak  seriously;  you  will . undermine  your  health." 
Her  eyes  were  fixed  earnestly  on  his  noble  face, 
beaming  with  benevolence,  and  a  slight  flush  tinged 
her  cheek  as  she  replied:  "  Dr.  Bryant,  I  am  not 
the  devout  Catholic  you  suppose  me.  The  Padre 
thinks  me  remiss  in  many  of  my  duties,  and  I  am 
going  for  a  short  time  to  San  Jose.  You  need  not 
look  at  me  so  strangely,  I  have  no  idea  of  becoming 
a  nun,  I  assure  you." 

44  Inez,  one  of  your  faith  can  never  be  sure  of  any 
thing;  let  me  entreat  you  not  to  go  to  the  convent. 
You  need  recreation,  and  had  much  better  mount 
your  pony,  and  canter  a  couple  of  miles  every  morn- 
ing; it  would  insure  a  more  healthful  state  of  both 
body  and  mind.** 


64  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

"  I  must  go,  Dr.  Bryant." 

"  Well  then,  good-by,  if  you  must,  yet  I  fear  you 
will  not  return  looking  any  better." 

"  Adios,"  and  they  parted. 

Inez's  eye  followed  the  retreating  form  till  an  ad- 
joining corner  intervened.  Then  pressing  her  hand 
on  her  heart,  as  if  to  still  some  exquisite  pain,  she 
murmured  in  saddened  tones — "  Oh!  I  would  lay 
down  my  life  for  your  love,  yet  it  is  lavished  on  one 
who  has  no  heart  to  give  in  return.  Oh,  that  I  may 
one  day  be  able  to  serve  you!" 

At  that  moment  she  perceived  Mafiuel  Nevarro 
crossing  the  Plaza,  and  drawing  closer  the  mantilla, 
she  hastened  homeward. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

"  A  perfect  woman,  nobly  planned ; 
To  warn,  to  counsel,  to  command, 
The  reason  firm,  the  temperate  will, 
Prudence,  foresight,  strength,  and  skill." 

—  Wordsworth. 

THE  beautiful  ideal  of  Wordsworth  seemed  realized 
in  Mrs.  Carlton.  She  was  by  nature  impetuous,  and 
even  irritable ;  but  the  careful  training  of  her  deeply 
pious  mother  early  eradicated  these  seeds  of  discord 
and  future  misery.  She  reared  her  "  in  the  way  she 
should  go,"  and  taught  her  to  "  remember  her  Ore- 


INEZ  ,'  A  TALB  OF  THE  ALAMO.  65 

ator  in  the  days  of  her  youth.*'  Crushing  vanity, 
which  soon  rose  hydra-headed  in  her  path,  she  im- 
planted in  her  daughter's  heart  a  sense  of  her  own 
unworthiness,  and  led  her  to  the  "  fountain  of  light 
and  strength." 

Under  her  judicious  care,  Ellen's  character  was 
moulded  into  perfect  beauty.  She  became  a  Chris- 
tian, in  the  purest  sense  of  the  term.  Hers  were 
not  the  gloomy  tenets  of  the  anchorite,  who  with  a 
sort  of  Spartan  stoicism,  severs  every  tie  enjoined 
by  his  great  Creator,  bids  adieu  to  all  of  joy  that 
earth  can  give,  and  becomes  a  devotee  at  the  shrine 
of  some  canonized  son  of  earth,  as  full  of  imperfec- 
tions as  himself.  Neither  did  she  hold  the  lighter 
and  equally  dangerous  creed  of  the  latitudinarian. 
Her  views  were  of  a  happy  medium;  liberal,  yet  per- 
fectly orthodox. 

Ellen  'married  early  in  life,  and  many  were  the 
trials  which  rose  up  to  test  her  fortitude,  and  even 
her  reliance  on  Almighty  God.  Of  six  beautiful 
children  that  blessed  her  union,  four  went  down  to 
an  early  tomb.  Though  bowed  to  the  earth  by  the 
weight  of  her  affliction,  she  murmured  not  against 
the  hand  that  chastened  her ;  but  as  one  by  one  was 
snatched  from  her  warm  embrace,  she  poured  out 
the  depth  of  a  mother's  love  on  the  remaining  two. 

One  stroke  of  fortune  reduced  her,  in  a  day,  from 
affluence  to  comparative  penury;  and  leaving  his 
luxurious  home,  Mr.  Carlton  resolved  to  seek  his  for- 
tune in  the  Western  World.  Hither  she  had  accom- 
panied him,  encountering,  without  a  murmur,  the 


66  INEZ  ;  A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO. 

numerous  hardships,  which  those  who  have  not  en- 
dured can  never  fully  realize.  They  had  preceded 
Mr.  Hamilton  but  a  few  months,  and  joyfully  wel- 
comed him  as  an  agreeable  acquisition  to  their  little 
circle. 

Mrs.  Carlton  found  in  Mary  a  real  friend;  one 
who  sympathized  with,  and  assisted  her  in  her  many 
benevolent  plans  for  ameliorating  the  condition  of 
the  destitute  Mexicans  around  them. 

With  Florence,  the  former  had  little  affinity,  and, 
consequently,  little  intercourse.  Their  tastes  were 
directly  opposite;  and  though  they  often  met,  there 
was  no  interchange  of  the  deep  and  holier  feelings  of 
the  heart. 

Frank  Bryant  was  the  orphan- brother  of  Mrs. 
Carlton,  and  almost  as  dearly  loved  by  her  as  her 

own  darling  Elliot.  A  few  months  before  St. fs 

day,  he  reached  San  Antonio,  on  a  visit  to  the  sister, 
from  whom  he  had  been  separated  several  years. 
Soon  after  his  arrival,  an  epidemic  made  its  appear- 
ance among  the  lower  order  of  Mexicans ;  and  as 
there  was  no  resident  physician  at  that  early  time, 
his  services  were  speedily  in  requisition.  The  Padre, 
who  numbered  among  his  many  acquirements  a  tol- 
erable knowledge  of  medicine,  viewed  with  indiffer- 
ence the  suffering  around  him;  and  was  only  roused 
from  his  lethargy  by  discovering  the  flattering  esti- 
mation in  which  Frank  was  held.  Fearing  so  for- 
midable a  rival  in  the  affections  of  his  people,  he 
left  no  means  untried  to  undermine  the  popularity  so 
deservedly  acquired.  But  gratitude  is  a  distinguish- 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  67 

ing  trait  of  Indian  character ;  and  though  apparently 
obeying  the  injunctions  of  their  Padre,  to  follow  no 
directions  save  his  own,  they  reverenced  Dr.  Bryant 
as  a  being  of  superior  order. 

It  was  beside  the  bed  of  a  dying  friend  that  Inez 
first  met  him.  One  long,  weary  night  they  watched 
together,  and  when  at  last  death  freed  the  sufferer, 
with  mingled  emotions  of  admiration  and  gratitude 
she  thanked  him  for  the  attentions  conferred  with 
such  disinterested  benevolence.  She  could  not 
avoid  contrasting  the  conduct  of  the  cold  and  calcu- 
lating Jesuit  with  the  warm-hearted  kindness  of  the 
noble  stranger. 

In  a  few  days  it  became  evident  that  she  had  her- 
self imbibed  the  disease,  and  her  terrified  father  be- 
sought the  young  physician  to  restore  her.  With  un- 
wearied patience  he  watched  over  the  beautiful 
Sefiorita,  whom  Mrs.  Carlton  and  Mary  most  care- 
fully nursed,  and  was  rewarded  by  the  glow  of  re- 
turning health. 

The  idols  of  her  youth  were  neglected  and  for- 
gotten ;  one  image  filled  Inez's  heart,  and  before  it 
she  poured  out  all  the  passionate  love  of  her  ardent 
nature;  hence  her  aversion  to  a  union  with  Mafiuel 
Nevarro. 

Dr.  Bryant  early  perceived  her  attachment;  and 
knowing  full  well  that  he  could  never  return  it, 
avoided  her  society  with  a  delicacy  peculiarly  his 
own.  When  thrown  accidentally  into  her  presence, 
his  manner  was  frank,  kind,  and  brotherly. 

did  not  deceive  herself  for  a  moment  by  sup- 


68  INEZ  ;  A  TALE   OF  THE   ALAMO. 

posing  that  he  would  ever  return  her  love.  She 
knew  too  well  the  nature  of  the  barrier  which  inter- 
vened. To  remain  unfettered,  to  see,  to  love,  and 
one  day  to  serve  him,  was  her  dearest  wish;  and  for 
its  gratification  she  dared  the  rage  of  her  father,  and 
the  hatred  of  her  Padre.  She  fancied  he  loved 
another,  and  with  the  characteristic  jealousy  of  her 
nation,  an  aversion  to  that  object  settled  on  her 
heart. 

Dr.  Bryant  had  nursed  the  last  patient  into  conva- 
lescence: still   he    lingered,   and    at   the    close   of 

St. *s  day,  announced  his  intention  of  remaining 

until  the  difficulties  with  Mexico  were  either  ami- 
cably arranged,  or  war  declared.  Mary  and  Flor- 
ence he  often  met,  for  he  was  a  constant  visitor  at 
Mr.  Hamilton's.  His  manner  toward  them  was 
very  different;  with  Mary  he  ever  assumed  the 
light  bantering  tone  of  brotherly  freedom;  with 
Florence  he  was  always  grave  and  earnest.  Their 
conversation  was  generally  upon  literary  topics,  of 
which  she  was  fond.  Many  were  their  discussions 
for  and  against  their  favorite  authors  and  philoso- 
phers. In  these  arguments  Mary  seldom  took  part, 
though  fully  qualified  to  do  so.  Occasionally  her 
cousin  asked  her  opinion  on  various  topics ;  at  such 
times  she  gave  them  clearly,  yet  modestly,  and  with 
a  gentle  dignity  peculiar  to  herself.  The  earnest  at- 
tention with  which  Frank  listened  to  her  views,  and 
his  happy  smile,  when  they  coincided  with  his  own, 
somewhat  puzzled  Mary;  yet  she  welcomed  his  re- 
partees with  the  same  bright  smile,  and  allowed 
distrust  and  jealousy  no  room  in  her  heart. 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  69 


CHAPTER  X. 

"  He  swore  that  love  of  souls 
Alone  had  drawn  him  to  the  church  ;  yet  strewed 
The  path  that  led  to  hell  with  tempting  flowers, 
And  in  the  ear  of  sinners,  as  they  took 
The  way  of  death,  he  whispered  peace." 

— Pollok. 

How  wearily  pass  the  hours  to  the  anxious  watcher 
beside  the  couch  of  pain.  To  her,  it  seems  as  though 
the  current  of  time  had  forgotten  to  run  on  and  join 
the  mighty  past,  and  that  its  swift  waters  were 
gathering  glassily  around  her.  With  unmitigated 
care  Florence  had  attended  the  bedside  of  her  suffer- 
ing parent;  occasionally  slumbering  on  his  pillow, 
but  more  frequently  watching  through  the  long 
nights,  and  often  stealing  to  the  casement,  to  look 
out  upon  surrounding  gloom,  and  wonder  if  the  light 
of  day  would  ever  fall  again  on  earth.  Ah !  in  the 
midnight  hour,  when  all  nature  is  hushed,  when  uni- 
versal darkness  reigns,  when  the  "  still  small  voice  " 
will  no  longer  be  silenced,  then  we  are  wont  to  com- 
mune with  our  own  hearts.  All  barriers  melt  away( 
and  the  saddened  past,  the  troubled  present,  and  the 
shadowy  future  rise  successively  before  us,  and  re- 
fuse to  be  put  by.  In  vain  we  tightly  close  the 
aching  lids ;  strange  lurid  lights  flare  around  us,  and 
mysterious  forms  glide  to  and  fro. 

To  the  guilty,  how  fearful  must  the  season  of  dark- 


TO  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

ness  prove,  when,  unable  longer  to  escape  from 
themselves,  they  yield  to  the  pangs  of  remorse,  and 
toss  in  unutterable  anguish  ' 

"By  night,  an  atheist  half  believes  a  God." 

And  thousands,  who  in  the  sunny  light  of  day  rush 
madly  on  to  ruin,  pause,  shudderingly,  in  the  mid- 
night hour,  and  look  yearningly  toward  the  narrow 
path  where  Virtue's  lamp,  flashing  into  the  deepest 
recesses  of  surrounding  gloom,  dispels  all  shadow; 
and,  in  imagination,  view  the  Christian  peacefully 
descending  the  hill  of  life,  fearlessly  crossing  the 
"  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,"  and  resting  at  last 
on  that  blest  shore,  where  night  and  darkness  are 
unknown,  "  swallowed  up  in  endless  day." 

It  was  very  evident  that  Mr.  Hamilton  could 
survive  but  a  few  days;  and  to  every  entreaty  that 
she  would  take  some  rest,  Florence  but  shook  her 
head,  and  replied,  that  she  would  not  leave  him  when 
he  must  die  so  soon. 

One  evening  Dr.  Bryant,  having  administered  a 
soothing  potion,  turned  to  her  and  said,  "  My  dear 
Miss  Hamilton,  you  will  seriously  injure  your  health 
by  such  constant  watching.  Your  father  needs  noth- 
ing now  but  quiet.  Let  me  entreat  you  to  go  out 
for  a  short  time;  the  air  will  refresh  you,  and  your 
aunt  will  remain  with  Mr.  Hamilton."  He  drew 
her  reluctantly  from  her  seat  as  he  spoke,  and  whis- 
pered Mary  to  accompany  her. 

Drawing  her  arm  round  Florence,  Mary  turned  in 
the  direction  of  their  accustomed  rambles,  but  her 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  7 1 

cousin  said,  "  I  am  too  weary  to  walk  far,  let  us  go 
to  our  old  seat  by  the  river." 

The  stream  was  only  a  few  yards  distant,  and  they 
seated  themselves  on  a  broad,  flat  stone,  beneath  a 
cluster  of  pomegranate  and  figs.  The  evening  was 
beautifully  clear,  the  soft  light  which  still  lingered 
in  the  west  mellowing  every  object,  and  the  balmy 
southern  breeze,  fresh  from  "  old  ocean's  bosom," 
rustling  musically  amidst  the  branches  above.  As 
if  to  enhance  the  sweetness  of  the  hour,  and  win  the 
mourners  from  their  sad  thoughts,  the  soothing  tones 
of  the  vesper-bells  floated  afar  on  the  evening  air; 
distance  had  softened  them,  and  now  they  sounded 
clear  and  Eolian-like.  The  river  eddied  and  curled 
rapidly  along  at  their  feet ;  and  ever  and  anon,  the 
stillness  that  seemed  settling  around  was  broken  by 

the  plunging  fish  that  gamboled  in  hundreds  amidst 

its  blue  waters. 

"  How  calm  and  holy  this  stillness  seems !    Florry, 

does  it  not  cause  you  to  lift  your  heart  in  gratitude 

to  the  *  Almighty  Giver  '  of  so  many  blessings?" 
"  All  things  are  dark  to  sorrow;"  replied  Florence, 

and  folding  her  arms  across  her  bosom,  she  dropped 

her  head  wearily  upon  them. 
"  Oh,  Florry,  do  not  give  up  so      I  can  not  bear 

to  hear  your  despairing  tone.     Still  hope;  your  dear 

father  may  be  spared  to  us;"  and  she  put  her  arms 

caressingly  around  her. 
"  Hope !"  echoed  Florence ;  "  I  have  ceased  to  hope 

that  he  will  recover.     I  know  that  he  can  not ;  and 

in  a  few  hours  I  shall  be  alone  in  the  world.    Alone, 


72  INEZ  ;   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

alone !"  she  repeated  the  words  as  if  fully  to  realize 
the  misery  in  store  for  her.  "  O  God !  why  hast  thou 
not  taken  me  before  ?  Take  me  now ;  oh,  in  mercy 
take  me  with  him!" 

In  vain  Mary  strove  to  soothe  and  console  her; 
she  remained  perfectly  still,  her  face  hid  in  her 
arms,  and  replied  not  to  her  anxious  questionings. 
A  long  silence  ensued,  and  Mary  wept.  A  feeling 
of  desolation  began  to  creep  over  her;  a  second  time 
she  was  to  be  thrown  on  the  wide,  cold  world.  She 
thought  of  her  uncle's  generosity  and  unvaried  kind, 
ness  during  the  many  years  she  had  dwelt  under  his 
roof,  and  scarcely  felt  that  it  was  not  her  own.  And 
then  there  stole  up  the  image  of  her  lost  mother 
the  wan,  but  saint-like  face,  and  the  heavenly  smile 
with  which  she  pointed  upwards,  and  bade  her  child 
prepare  for  the  glorious  union,  in  that  mansion 
which  Jehovah  assigned  to  those  who  are  faithful  on 
earth. 

Poor  Mary's  heart  was  sad  indeed;  yet  there  was 
no  bitterness  in  her  soul,  no  rebellious  feelings  to- 
ward Almighty  God,  who  had  thus  afflicted  her  so 
sorely.  She  wiped  away  her  tears,  and  calming  her- 
self as  much  as  possible,  repeated  in  a  faltering 
voice  the  beautiful  hymn  commencing  "  I  would  not 
Eve  always."  She  paused  at  the  conclusion  of  the 
second  verse;  but  Florence  did  not  lift  her  head, 
and  hoping  to  cheer  her,  she  finished  the  hymn. 

Twilight  had  fallen  on  the  earth,  and  the  blue 
vault  of  heaven  was  studied  with  its  myriad  lamps. 
The  new  moon  glittered  like  a  golden  thread — low 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  73 

In  the  west — and  seemed  almost  to  rest  upon  the 
bosom  of  the  stream,  as  it  curved  in  the  distance  to 
meet  the  horizon. 

"  Come,  Florry,  you  must  not  stay  out  so  late;  I 
am  afraid  you  will  take  cold!" 

Florence  rose  mechanically  and  accompanied  her. 

"  Oh,  Florry,  do  try  and  trust  in  God,  and  believe 
that  in  every  trial  and  affliction  he  will  comfort  and 
assist  us." 

Her  cousin  sighed  heavily  but  made  no  reply. 

As  they  reached  the  gate  it  was  quickly  opened, 
and  the  Padre  met  them ;  he  bowed  coldly  to  Mary, 
but  shook  hands  with  Florence,  and  promised  to 
come  again  the  ensuing  day.  It  was  so  late  that 
Mary  could  not  distinguish  his  features;  but  just 
as  he  turned  to  go,  Aunt  Fanny  threw  open  the  kit- 
chen door,  and  the  light  streamed  full  on  his  face; 
their  eyes  met,  and  she  started  at  the  smile  of  triumph 
that  irradiated  his  dark  countenance ;  he  bowed  and 
passed  on. 

Mary  hastened  down  the  walk  and  entered  the 
sick  room,  fearing  she  scarcely  knew  what.  The  in- 
valid was  tossing  restlessly  from  side  to  side,  and  on 
the  pillow  lay  a  rosary  and  crucifix.  For  an  instant 
she  stood  motionless;  then  sprang  forward,  and 
clasped  his  burning  hand  in  hers. 

"  Uncle !  dear  uncle !  tell  me  who  has  been  with 
you !  Aunt  Lizzy  promised  she  would  not  leave  you 
till  we  came  back.  You  have  been  excited;  your 
hands  are  burning  with  fever!" 

"  I  was  not  alone,  Mary;  the  Padre  sat  and  talked 


74  INEZ ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

with  me;"  as  the  sufferer  spoke,  he  shuddered  and 
closed  his  eyes. 

"  And  did  he  leave  these  here  ?"  said  she,  taking  up 
the  crucifix  and  rosary. 

"  No,  no !  they  are  mine !"  and  he  snatched  them 
from  her. 

Mary  turned  pale,  and  leaned  against  the  bed  for 
support.  Florence,  now  bending  over  her  father, 
motioned  to  her  cousin  to  be  silent ;  without  effect, 
however;  for,  passing  round  the  bed,  she  knelt  be- 
side him.  "  Uncle,  was  it  by  your  desire  that  the 
Padre  came  here  this  evening  ?" 

He  did  not  seem  to  hear  her  question ;  she  repeated 
it. 

"  Yes;  that  is,  this  is  not  his  first  visit." 

"  Uncle,  why  do  you  evade  me  ?  Tell  me,  I  entreat 
you,  if  he  did  not  force  himself  here  in  my  absence !" 

"  Mary,  will  you  drive  my  father  delirious  with 
your  interference  with  his  wishes  ?" 

"  No,  Florry,  not  when  I  am  convinced  that  such 
are  his  wishes.  I  know  that  in  health  he  is  no  more 
a  Papist  than  you  or  I;  yet  now  I  see  him  clinging 
to  that  rosary  and  crucifix,  what  am  I  to  think  ?  If 
you  can  explain  this  mystery,  do  so,  Florry." 

"  The  day  that  you  were  at  Mrs.  Carlton's  learn- 
ing to  make  that  custard  my  father  likes  so  well,  the 
Padre  came  and  kindly  sat  with  him  some  time.  He 
came  the  next  night,  and  the  next;  and  read  and 
prayed  with  him.  I  hope  you  are  satisfied  now  that 
there  is  no  intrusion."  All  this  was  whispered 
so  low  as  not  to  reach  the  ears  of  the  invalid. 


INEZ  J   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  7$ 

"  Were  you  present  at  any  of  these  interviews, 
Florry  ?" 

"  No;  they  always  preferred  being  alone." 
"  Oh !  why  did  you  not  tell  me  this  before  ?" 
"  I  am  sure  I  can't  see  what  you  are  so  excited 
about !     If  my  father  chooses  to  become  a  Catholic, 
I  should  think  it  would  relieve  you  to  know  that  he 
realizes  his  situation."     She  turned  resolutely  away 
as  she  finished  speaking,  and  seated  herself  beside 
the  bed. 

Mary  left  the  room  almost  stunned  by  the  dis- 
covery she  had  made ;  and  scarce  knowing  what  to 
do,  wrapped  her  shawl  about  her  and  walked  quickly 
to  Mrs.  Carlton's.  To  her  she  related  all  she  had 
just  learned,  and  begged  her  advice  and  assistance. 

Mrs.  Carlton  was  sorely  puzzled  and  much  dis- 
tressed. 

"  I  fear,  Mary,  it  is  too  late  to  remedy  the  evil." 
"  Oh,  do  not  say  so !  I  cannot  bear  that  he  should 
die  in  that  faith;  he  is  too  feeble  to  oppose  anything 
they  offer,  and  is  scarcely  conscious  of  his  own  ac- 
tions. In  health,  they  dared  not  approach  him ;  for 
they  knew  full  well  that  he  scorned  their  creed  and 
disliked  their  Padre.  Yet  now  that  he  is  so  weak, 
in  both  body  and  mind,  they  hope  to  influence  him. 
Oh,  how  could  Florence  be  so  blind  ?  Dear  Mrs. 
Carleton,  come  and  reason  with  him.  I  know  he 
he  esteems  you  very  highly,  and  your  opinion  might 
weigh  with  hiir  " 

"  Indeed,  my  dear  child,  I  will  do  all  in  my  power 
to  dissuade  him  from  the  unfortunate  course  he  has 
Vol.  6  D— Evans 


j6  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

taken,  but  not  to-night ;  he  must  be  wearied  very 
much  already.  I  will  come  in  the  morning." 

Early  the  ensuing  day  she  fulfilled  her  promise, 
and  in  Florence's  presence  strove  to  elicit  his  views 
and  belief.  To  her  surprise  he  refused  to  hold  any 
conversation  on  the  subject;  declaring  that  his  mind 
was  made  up,  and  that  he  was  determined  to  die  a 
member  of  the  holy  Catholic  Church. 

Before  she  could  frame  a  reply  they  were  startled 
by  the  sound  of  a  struggle  at  the  door,  and  the  next 
moment  it  was  flung  wide  open  and  Father  Mazzolin, 
livid  with  -rage,  rushed  in.  Mrs.  Carlton  rose  with 
gentle  dignity  and  inquired  his  business.  He  heeded 
not  her  question  but  strode  to  the  bed  and  whispered 
in  Mr.  Hamilton's  ear.  The  invalid,  in  a  voice  so 
feeble  that  it  was  scarce  audible,  requested  them  to 
leave  him  with  the  Padre  for  an  hour,  as  he  wished 
to  converse  with  him  alone.  Mrs.  Carleton  perfectly 
well  understood  that  he  but  repeated  the  priest's 
orders,  and  perceiving  that  nothing  could  now  be 
effected,  left  the  room  accompanied  by  Florence. 
But  Mary  clung  to  the  bed  and  refused  to  go. 

"  You  have  taken  advantage  of  my  uncle's  weak- 
ness to  force  yourself  where  your  presence  is  unwel- 
come, and  I  will  not  leave  him  when  he  is  too  weak 
to  oppose  your  orders." 

He  strove  to  force  her  out  but  she  clung  firmly  to 
the  bed ;  and  muttering  an  oath  between  his  teeth, 
he  turned  to  the  sufferer  and  spoke  in  an  unknown 
tongue;  a  feeble  response  in  the  same  language 
seemed  to  satisfy  him,  and  darting  a  triumphant 


INEZ  ;   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  77 

glance  at  the  kneeling  girl,  he  seated  himself  and 
conversed  for  nearly  an  hour.  Then  offering  up  a 
Latin  prayer,  departed,  promising  to  come  again. 

Mrs.  Carlton  had  not  left  the  house;  she  waited 
anxiously  for  Mary.  And  when  Florence  re-entered 
the  sick-room,  the  former  hastened  to  her  friend. 

"Oh,  I  did  all  I  could  to  prevent  it !"  cried  Mary, 
in  despair.  "  All  is  over,  I  am  afraid.  I  was  sitting 
on  the  door  step  preparing  some  arrowroot,  when  I 
saw  Aunt  Lizzie  go  out  the  gate.  I  thought  it  strange 
at  the  time  of  day,  but  never  suspected  the  truth. 
Presently  I  saw  her  coming  back  with  the  priest,  and 
knew  in  an  instant  she  had  gone  for  him.  I  was 
determined  to  prevent  his  seeing  my  uncle  if  possi- 
ble, and  fastened  the  front  door.  Before  I  could 
lock  my  uncle's,  he  wrenched  open  the  window  and 
sprang  in.  I  tried  to  put  the  key  in  my  pocket  and 
told  him  he  could  not  go  in  then ;  but  he  made  Aunt 
Lizzy  hold  one  of  my  hands,  while  he  forced  open 
my  fingers  and  took  the  key.  Oh !  that  Dr.  Bryant 
had  been  here."  She  showed  Mrs.  Carlton  the  marks 
of  his  grasp  on  her  wrist.  "  Tell,  oh,  tell  me  what 
I  can  do  to  save  him !" 

"  Alas !  nothing,  Mary.  He  is  completely  under 
the  control  of  the  Padre,  and  no  reasoning  will  avail 
now." 

With  a  sad  heart  Mrs.  Carlton  took  leave,  advising 
Mary  "  to  offer  no  further  resistance,  as  it  was  now 
impossible  to  convince  her  uncle  of  his  error." 


78  INEZ  :  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

"  He's  gone — his  soul  hath  ta'en  its  earthless  flight, 
Whither  ?  I  dread  to  think — but  he  is  gone  I" 

Byron. 

MR.  HAMILTON,  though  perfectly  conscious  that 
his  end  was  rapidly  approaching,  had  scrupulously 
avoided  the  subject  in  the  presence  of  the  girls.  One 
morning  after  a  night  of  more  than  ordinary  suffer- 
ing, he  lay  quite  exhausted.  Death  was  at  hand, 
and  feeling  intuitively  that  the  appointed  hour  had 
arrived,  he  requested  all  to  withdraw,  save  Florence. 
When  they  were  alone  he  laid  his  hand  on  her  head 
and  said,  in  a  low,  feeble  tone — "  Florence,  I  am 
going.  I  cannot  survive  this  day,  and  I  wish  to  give 
you  my  last  advice.  I  am  afraid  your  lot  will  be  a 
hard  one  when  I  am  gone;  trials  without  number 
are  in  store  for  you.  Oh !  my  proud-hearted,  beau- 
tiful Florence,  what  will  become  of  you  now  ?"  He 
covered  his  face  with  his  hands  a  moment,  then  con- 
tinued— "  I  do  not  wish  you  to  return  to  your  native 
place.  My  child  must  be  dependent  on  no  one,  yet 
to  leave  you  here  so  unprotected,  is  hard  indeed. 
Dr.  Bryant  has  promised  to  watch  over  you,  and  the 
Carltons  are  kind  friends.  Florence,  you  must  de- 
pend upon  yourself.  Thank  God,  you  are  strong- 
minded;  and  Mary,  our  kind,  good  Mary,  will  be 
near  to  comfort  and  assist  you.  I  am  growing 
weaker,  but  there  is  one  more  thing  I  wish  to  say." 


INEZ  J  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  79 

He  paused,  and  for  the  first  time  Florence  spoke. 

"  My  father,  tell  me  every  wish;  fear  nothing  for 
me,  there  is  nothing  I  can  not  bear  now." 

"  For  my  sake,  Florence,  if  not  for  your  own,  will 
you  promise  to  be  guided  by  Father  Mazzolin  ?" 

"  Do  you  mean  in  matters  of  religion,  my  father  ?" 

"  I  mean  in  all  things;  matters  of  interest  as  well 
as  matters  of  faith.  He  will  assist  you  much  if  you 
will  but  follow  his  advice  and  directions." 

There  was  a  pause,  and  then  Florence  said  slowly, 
as  if  weighing  every  word — "  Rest  assured  your 
wishes  shall  be  my  law.  I  will  consult  the  Padre  as 
you  desire." 

With  a  look  of  relief  the  dying  man  sank  back  on 
his  pillow,  and  closed  his  eyes.  Florence  quickly 
summoned  the  physician  and  her  aunt  and  cousin. 
A  little  while  after,  as  Mr.  Hamilton's  eye  fell  on  the 
weeping  Mary,  he  extended  his  hand,  and  when  she 
bent  over  him,  drew  her  face  down  and  imprinted 
a  long  kiss  on  hei  pale  cheek.  Even  as  he  did  so  a 
dark  form  glided  to  the  bedside.  Another  moment 
the  uncle  and  niece  were  separated ;  none  knew  how, 
yet  the  Padre  stood  between,  whispering  low  in  the 
sufferer's  ear.  Almost  gasping  for  breath,  the  latter 
intimated  his  desire  to  confess  for  the  last  time. 
And  they  were  left  alone. 

Nearly  an  hour  after  the  priest  entered  the  apart- 
ment where  Florence  and  Mary  sat.  He  trembled 
visibly,  yet,  in  his  usual  tone,  said  that  he  wished 
the  family  to  be  present  at  the  last  rites  about  to  be 
performed  for  the  dying  Papist.  They  immediately 


8o  INEZ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

repaired  to  the  sick  room,  and  the  spectacle  there 
presented  made  Mary  quiver  in  every  limb.  The 
sufferer  had  been  placed  for  convenience  on  a  low 
couch,  and  was  supported  by  pillows  in  an  upright 
position.  A  dozen  candles  burnt  around  him,  and 
a  cloud  of  incense  wreathed  slowly  along  the  wall. 
The  room  had  been  profusely  sprinkled  with  holy 
water,  and  a  chalice  containing  the  consecrated 
wafer,  sat  near.  Gasping  for  breath,  Mr.  Hamilton 
clasped  a  crucifix  to  his  lips,  though  unable  from 
weakness  to  secure  it  there;  for  twice  it  fell  from 
his  fingers  and  rolled  to  the  floor. 

Father  Mazzolin,  attired  in  a  surplice  ornamented 
with  the  insignia  of  his  order,  stood  beside  the  bed, 
holding  in  one  hand  a  superbly-bound  volume — in 
the  other  a  silver  cup  containing  oil. 

After  a  moment's  pause  he  opened  the  book,  and 
hurriedly  read  in  a  low,  muttering  tone,  a  Latin  ser- 
vice of  several  pages.  At  the  conclusion  he  care- 
fully poured  out  a  few  drops  of  the  oil,  and  just 
touched  the  palms  of  the  sufferer's  hands,  and  the 
soles  of  his  feet,  bidding  him  at  the  same  time  cross 
himself.  Perceiving  that  he  was  utterly  unable  to 
do  so,  he  hastily  signed  the  figure  and  resumed  his 
reading.  How  long  he  would  have^gabbled  on,  it 
is  impossible  to  say,  but  a  gasping  sound  from 
the  dying  man'  declared  that  dissolution  was  at 
hand,  and  snatching  the  chalice,  he  hastily  admin- 
istered the  wafer,  which  was  swallowed  with  diffi- 
culty. For  the  third  time,  Father  Mazzolin  strove 
to  replace  the  crucifix  in  his  hand  and  bend  it  to 


INEZ  :  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  8 1 

his  lips.  The  cold  fingers  refused  to  clasp  the 
consecrated  wood,  and  sank,  stiffened  and  powerless 
by  his  side. 

Mary  had  gazed  mournfully  on  as  this  mummery 
was  enacted.  A  deathbed  for  a  theatre,  weeping 
relatives  an  audience,  and  Father  Mazzolin  an 
amateur  performer.  Aunt  Lizzy  was  kneeling  be- 
side the  Padre,  ever  and  anon  invoking  the  Virgin; 
while  Florence  sat  with  her  face  in  her  hands,  almost 
as  unconscious  of  what  passed  as  her  dying  parent. 
She  bent  over  him  now,  and  in  heart-rending  ac- 
cents conjured  him  not  to  leave  her.  He  struggled 
in  vain  to  utter  words  of  comfort ;  they  died  away 
in  whispers,  and,  with  a  slight  moan,  the  spirit  re- 
turned to  the  God  that  gave  it.  The  Padre  snatched 
his  hat  and  hastily  left  the  house,  while  Mary  gave 
vent  to  an  uncontrollable  burst  of  sorrow.  Florence 
seemed  suddenly  frozen,  so  rigid  was  her  counte- 
nance as  she  gazed  on  the  cold  form  below  her.  She 
neither  wept  nor  moaned,  but  closed  the  eyes  with 
a  long,  long  kiss,  and  drawing  a  sheet  over  the  mar- 
ble features,  turned  with  a  slow,  unfaltering  step, 
away, 


82  INEZ  :   A  TALE  O-    THE  ALAMO. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

"  For  now  that  Hope's  last  ray  is  gone. 

Sure  Lethe's  dream  would  bless  : 
In  grief  to  think  of  bliss  that's  flown, 
Adds  pangs  to  wretchedness." 

— Anonymous. 

A  FORTNIGHT  had  passed,  and  again  it  was  evening. 
In  the  small  dining-room  of  Florence  Hamilton's 
humble  home  was  assembled  the  now  diminished 
family  circle.  Florence  sat  sadly  apart,  leaning  her 
head,  with  closed  eyes,  against  the  window.  The 
tea- bell  rang;  she  lifted  her  head,  glanced  round  the 
room,  and  wearily  dropped  her  brow  again  on  its 
resting  place.  Mary  approached,  and  taking  her 
hand,  said  in  a  gentle,  winning  tone,  "  Come,  Florry 
dear." 

"  Eat  your  supper,  Mary;  I  do  not  wish  any." 

"  But  you  have  not  eaten  anything  to-day,  and 
need  something ;  do  try,  for  my  sake." 

"  I  can  not.  If  you  knew  how  both  head  and  heart 
ache,  you  would  not  urge  me." 

Mary  turned  away,  and  ate  the  usually  joyous 
meal  with  a  heavy  heart.  Florence  had  left  her  seat, 
and  was  standing  in  the  door;  as  her  cousin  rose 
from  the  table  she  beckoned  to  her,  and  passed  hur- 
riedly out.  Mary  strove  to  catch  her  arm,  but  she 
hastened  on  as  if  trying  to  escape  from  herself. 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  8j 

Suddenly  she  paused  by  the  river  side,  and  clasped 
her  hands  convulsively  over  her  head. 

"  Mary!  Mary!  you  know  not  what  I  suffer." 

"  Florry,  sit  down,  and  lean  your  weary  head  on 
my  shoulder." 

She  dipped  her  hand  in  the  water,  and  dashed  the 
cold,  sparkling  drops  on  her  cousin's  burning  brow, 
speaking  the  while  in  a  low,  soothing  tone.  Flor- 
ence rested  a  few  moments  in  her  cousin's  arms, 
then  threw  herself  on  a  grassy  bank,  and  covered 
her  face;  one  long,  deep  groan  alone  attesting  her 
mental  anguish.  Mary  wept  more  bitterly  than  she 
had  yet  done;  still,  she  was  so  quiet,  none  would 
have  known  her  grief,  save  from  the  tears  that  fell 
over  her  hand  and  arms.  Can  it  be,  that  the  spirits 
of  departed  friends  hover  near  us  while  on  earth, 
and  draw  closer  in  hours  of  woe  ?  If  so,  why  is  it 
denied  to  the  suffering  one  to  hear  again  the  dear 
accents  of  the  "  loved  and  lost  ?"  Why  may  not 
their  silver  pinions  fan  the  burning  brow  of  sorrow- 
ing mortality,  and  the  echo  of  Heaven's  own  melody 
murmur  gently,  "  Peace,  peace  and  joy  for  ever- 
more ?" 

Florence  stood  up  before  her  cousin ;  all  trace  of 
emotion  had  passed  away,  and  left  her  calm.  The 
bright  moon  shone  full  on  her  face.  Oh!  how 
changed  since  the  morning  she  stood  in  Madame 

's  school-room.     The  large   dark  eyes  were 

sunken;  the  broad  brow  marked  with  lines  of  men- 
tal anguish ;  the  cheeks  colorless,  and  her  long,  raven 
hair  tossed  back,  and  hanging  like  a  vail  below  her 


84  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

slender  waist.  There  was  &  hollow,  wasted  look  in 
every  feature;  the  expression  was  one  of  hopeless 
misery,  and  a  something  there  was  which  made  the 
heart  ache,  yet  the  haughty  glance  of  other  days 
might  still  be  seen. 

"Mary,  look  at  me!" 

"Well,  Florry,  I  have  looked  at  you,  and  sad 
enough  it  makes  me  feel." 

44 1  am  changed,  Mary,  strangely  changed,  am  I 
not  ?  Answer  me  truly." 

"  Yes,  you  look  weary  and  ill;  but  why  do  you  ask 
me  such  a  question  ?  You  have  had  cause  to  look 
pale." 

"  Ah!  you  say  truly;  but,  Mary,  have  you  never 
suspected  that  a  secret  grief  was  freezing  the  life- 
blood  in  my  cheeks  ?" 

"  Florry,  what  do  you  mean  ?  I  am  afraid  you  are 
feverish !"  and  Mary  laid  her  hand  anxiously  on  her 
cousin's.  It  was  flung  contemptuously  off. 

44  Mary,  listen  to  what  I  have  to  say.  I  am  in  a 
strange  mood  to-night,  and  you  must  not  contradict 
me.  Where  shall  I  begin  ?  When  my  mother  died 
I  was  four  years  old,  they  say,  and  a  very  delicate 
child.  My  mother!  how  strange  it  sounds.  Yet  I 
can  at  times  faintly  remember  her  beautiful  face. 
Very  faintly,  as  in  a  dream,  I  have  seen  an  angel 
visitant.  My  mother,  why  did  you  leave  your  hap- 
less babe  ?  Oh !  why  ?  my  mother !  I  was  left  much 
to  myself,  and  followed  unrestrained  my  own  inclin- 
ations. You  know  my  fondness  for  books;  that 
fondness  was  imbibed  in  girlhood,  as  I  wandered  in 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  85 

my  own  sunny  home — my  lost  home.  My  father 
taught  me  to  conceal  my  emotions — to  keep  down 
the  rising  sob,  to  force  back  the  glittering  tear;  and 
when  I  smiled  over  some  childish  grief,  applauded 
my  stoicism.  I  became  unnatural,  cold,  haughty, 
but  not  unfeeling.  I  remember  well  how  your  pale 
face  and  mourning  dress  touched  my  heart,  and 
waked  my  sympathies.  From  that  hour  I  lavished 
my  love  on  my  father  and  yourself.  Years  passed 

and  we  went  to  New  Orleans "     Here  Florence 

paused,  and  closed  her  eyes  for  a  moment,  but 
quickly  resumed — "  You  know  how  I  studied.  Mary, 
was  it  merely  from  love  of  metaphysics  and  philos- 
ophy, think  you?  No,  no!  Mr.  Stewart's  look  of 
surprise  and  pleasure  as,  one  by  one,  I  mastered  va- 
rious intricacies,  was  the  meed  for  which  I  toiled. 
Mary,  from  the  first  day  we  met,  I  loved  him,  for 
his  was  a  master  spirit.  I  worshiped  him  in  my  in- 
most soul,  and  he  loved  me  in  return.  I  know — 
I  feel  that  he  did.  Yet  he  was  even  prouder  than 
myself,  and  would  have  scorned  to  speak  of  love  to 
one  who  never  smiled  in  his  presence.  Oh !  often 
when  he  stood  beside  my  desk  giving  instruction, 
my  heart  has  sprung  to  him.  I  have  longed  to  hear 
the  words  of  tenderness  that  welled  up  from  his 
heart,  but  scorned  to  tremble  on  his  lips.  No  look 
of  love  ever  fell  on  me.  His  glance  was  cold  and 
haughty.  Oh,  how  inconsistent  is  woman !  I  yearned 
for  his  love;  yet,  had  he  tendered  it,  under  my 
haughtiness  would  have  dropped  my  idol — have 
shivered  it  at  my  feet.  Weeks  passed,  and  while 


86       INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

near  him  I  knew  no  sorrow;  but  the  morning  of  my 
life  was  destined  to  be  short.  The  cloud  that  had 
lowered  on  the  horizon  suddenly  darkened  around. 
That  never-to-be-forgotten  letter  came,  and  I  saw  a 
great  gulf  open  at  my  feet.  An  invisible  hand 
placed  Dudley  Stewart  on  one  brink,  and  I  was  left 
upon  the  other;  and  an  unknown  messenger  thun- 
dered the  decree  of  separation — '  Forget  the  past  and 
live  again  in  the  future !'  I  started  as  from  a  fright- 
ful dream.  The  cold  reality  forced  itself  upon  me. 
Mary,  a  suspicion  stole  into  my  heart  and  stunned  me. 
I  thought  for  a  brief  time  that  Mr.  Stewart  loved 
you,  and  whose  hand  may  register  the  darkened 
thoughts  that  crowded  bitterly  up  ?  The  morning  we 
left  New  Orleans,  I  went  into  the  school-room  for  our 
books.  Ah !  who  may  know  the  agony  of  that  hour ! 
I  sat  down  in  his  chair,  and  laid  my  head  on  his  desk, 
and  groaned  in  mine  anguish  of  spirit.  Oh !  Mary, 
that  was  the  blackest,  bitterest  hour  of  my  life.  I 
had  fancied  he  loved  me ;  I  feared  I  was  deceived  ;  I 
hated — despised  myself  for  my  weakness.  Yet  I 
could  not  reproach  him ;  he  had  never  sought  my  love. 
"  I  had  just  risen  from  his  desk  when  Mr.  Stewart 
came  in.  He  did  not  seem  to  see  me,  but  took  a  seat 
near  the  door.  I  was  well-nigh  exhausted,  but  strove 
to  appear  as  cold  and  indifferent  as  ever.  I  gath- 
ered up  my  books  and  turned  to  go,  then  he  laid 
down  his  pen,  and  came  to  me. 
"  'I  believe  you  and  your  cousin  leave  to-day  ?' 
" '  Yes,  in  this  evening's  boat,'  I  answered,  much 
as  usual. 


INEZ  J  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  87 

44  4 1  wish  you  a  safe  and  pleasant  voyage.    My  kind- 
est adieux  to  your  cousin.     Good- by,  Miss  Hamilton.' 
44  He  held  out  his  hand.     I  said '  good- by '  as  clearly 
and  coldly  as  himself.     Our  hands  met  but  an  in- 
stant.    There  was  no  pressure — no  warmth,  and  then 
he  opened  the  door  for  me  to  pass.     As  he  did  so, 
our  eyes  met ;  his  glance  was  calm  and  cold,  but  his 
lips  were  firmly  compressed.     Had  he  looked  sad, 
mournful,  or  tender,  I  should  have  passed  out  and 
triumphed;  but  my  overtasked  strength  gave  way; 
a  cold  shudder  crept  through  my  frame,  and  con- 
sciousness forsook  me.     I  never  fainted  before  or 
since.     When  I  revived,  I  raised  my  head  and  looked 
about  me.     I  was  reclining  on  a  couch ;  he  kneeling 
beside  me,  calmly,  as  he  would  have  stood  in  class- 
He  held  my  hand,  and  pressed  it  warmly. 
44  rAre  you  better  now,  Florence  ?' 
44  4  Oh,  yes,  thank  you,'  I  said,  and  rose  to  my  feet. 
44  He  still   held   my  hand.     I    withdrew   it,  and 
turned   to  the  door.     He  placed  himself  before  it, 
and  said — *  Florence,  it  was  well  done;  you  are  an 
admirable  dissembler,  but  I  am  not  deceived.     You 
love  me,  and  have  for  long,  yet  I  freely  acknowledge 
your  love  can  never  exceed  my  own.     I  love  you  bet- 
ter than  my  life,  though  perfectly  aware  that  we  are 
now  parted  forever.     I  am  a  poor  tutor,  dependent 
on  my  daily  exertions  for  subsistence;  you  the  cher- 
ished daughter  of  a  wealthy  and  ambitious  parent.' 
44  He  drew  me  to  him,  and  imprinted  a  long  kiss  on 
my  lips;  then  put  me  gently  back,  and  left  the  room. 
44 1  never  saw  him  again,  but  did  I  doubt  his  love  f 


88  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

No,  no!  I  would  sooner  doubt  my  own  existence. 
We  embarked,  as  you  know,  in  the  evening.  That 
night  was  beautiful — just  such  a  one  as  this — serene 
and  heavenly.  I  stole  out  on  deck  when  others 
slumbered,  and  for  a  long  weary  hour  paced  to  and 
fro.  There  was  a  wild  tumult  in  my  soul  which 
would  not  be  stilled,  and  every  restraining  effort  but 
fanned  the  flame  that  raged  within.  A  never-to-be- 
forgotten  contest  was  waged  that  night,  and  my 
heart  was  the  arena.  My  guardian  angel  whispered 
low, '  Forget  the  past  as  a  feverish  dream;  it  is  not 
well  for  thee ;  forget,  forget !'  But  the  heaven- born 
accents  were  suddenly  drowned  by  the  wild  shriek 
of  my  dark  destiny — '  Of  Lethe's  waters  thou  shalt 
never  taste !  I  have  shattered  the  goblet~at  thy  feet, 
and  scattered  the  draught  to  the  winds  of  heaven ! 
Behold  the  apotheosis  of  thine  idol !  At  this  shrine 
shalt  thou  bow  evermore — evermore !' 

"  A  new  impulse  was  implanted  within  me;  and, 
impotent  to  resist,  I  was  impelled  onward,  and  on- 
ward, till  a  chasm  yawned  at  my  feet.  Yet  a 
moment  I  trembled  on  the  brink,  then  plunged 
desperately  forward.  Mary,  listen.  I  knelt  on  the 
damp,  glistening  deck,  and  implored  Almighty  God 
to  register  my  words  in  heaven.  In  his  awful  name 
and  presence,  I  solemnly  swore  to  love  Dudley 
Stewart  alone — to  be  his  wife,  or  go  down  to  the 
tomb  as  Florence  Hamilton.  I  rose  up  calm — the 
fierce  warring  was  stilled.  Yet  it  was  not  inward 
peace  that  succeeded.  My  fate  was  sealed — the  last 
page  of  destiny  transcribed. 


INEZ:  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  89 

"  Time  passed,  oblivious  of  the  darkened  hours  it 
bore  on  its  broad  bosom.  Mary,  I  have  watched 
for  one  loved  form,  and  listened  for  that  calm,  proud 
step.  I  have  loved,  and  trusted,  and  believed  that 
we  should  meet  again.  Deluded  Florence !  a  period 
is  put  to  thy  hopes  and  fears !  Mary,  he  is  married ! 
All  is  over  for  me.  The  dull,  heavy  weight  resting 
upon  my  heart  will  soon  crush  out  the  life  spark,  and 
lay  low  my  proud  head.  Ah !  my  cousin,  you  weep. 
I  wish  that  I  could;  but  tears  have  been  too  often 
scornfully  repulsed;  they  come  not  now  at  my  call. 
Oh,  Mary,  I  am  weary,  weary!  I  long  for  rest,  even 
the  rest  of  the  dark,  still  tomb !  I  have  no  hope — 
no  wish.  I  am  passive  now.  At  last  nature  has 
broken  the  bonds  so  long  forced  upon  her,  and  the 
reaction  is  strong  indeed.  You  ask  how  I  received 
my  information :  ah !  you  need  not  doubt  its  authen- 
ticity. Aunt  Lizzy  and  his  mother  were  old  friends, 
and  she  received  a  letter  the  day  before  my  father 
died,  announcing  his  approaching  union  with  a  beau- 
tiful cousin !  I  am  deservedly  punished ;  I  wor- 
shiped the  creature  and  forgot  the  God.  I  needed  a 
desperate  remedy,  and  it  is  administered." 

As  Florence  concluded  she  leaned  heavily  against 
a  tree,  and  raised  her  eyes  to  the  jeweled  vault 
above.  Just  then  a  dense  black  cloud,  which  had 
floated  up  from  the  west,  passed  directly  over  the 
moon,  obscuring  the  silvery  rays.  She  pointed  to  it, 
and  said,  in  a  low,  mournful  voice — "  How  typical  of 
my  life  and  heart ;  shut  out  from  joy  and  hope  in  one 
brief  hour,  unlike  it  ever  to  be  brightened  again." 


9O  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

"  Oh!  Florry,  dear  Florry!  turn  to  God  for  com- 
fort and  succor  in  this  hour  of  need.  He  will  enable 
you  to  bear  this  trial,  and  go  steadily  on  in  the  path 
of  duty." 

"  Mary,  I  have  no  incitement  to  exertion ;  nothing 
to  anticipate.  My  future  is  blank  and  dreary.  I 
know  my  lot  in  life;  I  have  nothing  to  hope  for." 

"  Not  so,  Florry.  Your  future  life  will  be  an  active 
one.  Are  we  not  dependent  on  our  exertions  for 
subsistence  ?  and  does  not  our  little  school  open  to- 
morrow ?  Cheer  up,  darling!  all  may  yet  be  bright. 
Bury  the  painful  remembrances  of  the  past ;  believe 
me,  peace,  if  not  joyousness,  will  surely  follow  the 
discharge  of  your  duties." 

"  I  can  not  forget  the  past.  Had  he  sought  my 
love,  I  could  scorn  him  for  his  baseness ;  but  it  is 
not  so.  I  almost  wish  it  were.  Yet  I  know  and 
feel  that  he  loves  me;  and  oblivion  of  the  past  is  as 
impossible  for  him  as  myself.  I  know  not  what 
strange  impulse  has  induced  me  to  tell  you  all  this. 
I  did  it  half  unconsciously,  hoping  for  relief  by  re- 
vealing that  which  has  pressed  so  heavily  on  my 
heart.  Mary,  never  speak  to  me  of  it  again;  and, 
above  all,  do  not  mention  his  name.  It  has  passed 
my  lips  for  the  last  time,  and  all  shall  be  locked 
again  within  my  own  heart.  We  will  open  the 
school  to-morrow;  and  may  God  help  me!  Mary, 
pray,  oh,  pray  for  me !  I  had  no  mother  to  teach  me 
and  prayer  is  a  stranger  to  my  lips." 

She  walked  hurriedly  to  the  house,  and  shut  her- 
self within  her  own  apartment. 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  pi 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

"  Freedom  calls  you  1    Quick  I  be  ready; 

Think  of  what  your  sires  have  been : 
Onward  !  onward  !  strong  and  steady, 
Drive  the  tyrant  to  his  den." 

— Percival. 

WHEN  Iturbide  attempted  to  free  his  oppressed 
countrymen  from  the  crushing  yoke  of  Spanish 
thralldom,  Liberty  was  the  watchword.  Success 
crowned  his  efforts — sovereign  power  lay  before 
him.  He  grasped  it,  and  made  himself  a  despot. 
Ambition  hurled  him  from  the  throne  of  the  Monte- 
zumas,  and  laid  his  proud  head  low.  A  new  star 
rose  on  the  stormy  horizon  of  the  west ;  pure  and 
softly  fell  the  rays  on  the  troubled  thousands  round. 
The  voice  of  the  new  comer  said  "  Peace,"  and  the 
wild  tumult  subsided.  Ten  years  passed;  Santa 
Anna  culminated.  The  gentle  tones  of  the  arch  de- 
ceiver were  metamorphosed  into  the  tiger's  growl, 
the  constitution  of  1824  subverted  in  a  day,  and  he 
ruled  in  the  room  of  the  lost  Iturbide. 

*  »  *  «  * 

The  Alamo  was  garrisoned.  Dark  bodies  of  Mex- 
ican troops  moved  heavily  to  and  fro,  and  cannon 
bristled  from  the  embrasures.  The  usually  quiet 
town  was  metamorphosed  into  a  scene  of  riot  and 
clamor;  and  fandangos,  at  which  Bacchus  rather  than 
Terpslahore  presided,  often  welcomed  the  new-born 


92  INEZ  :  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

day.  The  few  Americans*  in  San  Antonio  viewed 
with  darkened  brows  the  insolent  cavaliers.  The 
gauntlet  was  flung  down — there  was  no  retraction, 
no  retreat.  They  knew  that  it  was  so,  and  girded 
themselves  for  a  desperate  conflict. 

The  declaration  of  independence  was  enthusias- 
tically hailed  by  the  brave-hearted  Texans,  as  they 
sprang  with  one  impulse  to  support  the  new-born 
banner  that  floated  so  majestically  over  the  sunny 
prairies  of  their  western  home.  Mechanic,  states- 
man, plowboy,  poet,  pressed  forward  to  the  ranks, 
emulous  of  priority  alone.  A  small  but  intrepid 
band,  they  defied  the  tyrant  who  had  subverted  the 
liberties  of  his  country ;  defied  Santa  Anna  and  his 
fierce  legions,  and  spurned  the  iron  yoke  which  the 
priests  of  Mexico  vainly  strove  to  plant  upon  their 
necks.  Liberty,  civil  and  religious,  was  the  watch- 
word, and  desperately  they  must  struggle  in  the  com- 
ing strife. 

Mafiuel  Nevarro  had  eagerly  enlisted  in  the  Mex- 
ican ranks,  and  in  a  few  weeks  after  General  Cos's 
arrival,  donned  his  uniform.  Thus  accoutred,  he  pre- 
sented himself  for  the  first  time  since  their  disagree- 
ment, before  Inez,  who  had  but  recently  returned 
from  San  Jose,  doubting  not  that  her  admiration  of 

*  It  doubtless  appears  absurd  to  confine  the  title  of 
"  Americans  "  to  the  few  citizens  of  the  United  States  who 
emigrated  to  Texas,  when  all  who  inhabit  the  continent  are 
equally  entitled  to  the  appellation.  Yet  the  distinction  is 
Mexican ;  "  Los  Americanos  "  being  the  name  applied  to  all 
who  are  not  of  Spanish  descent. 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  93 

his  new  dress  would  extend  to  him  who  filled  it.  In 
truth,  his  was  a  fine  form  and  handsome  face;  yet 
sordid  selfishness,  and,  in  common  parlance,  "  a  de- 
termination to  have  his  own  way,"  were  indelibly 
stamped  upon  his  countenance. 

Inez  was  busily  preparing  the  evening  meal  when 
he  entered;  and  though  perfectly  aware  of  his  pres- 
ence, gave  no  indication  of  it.  He  stood  aside  and 
watched  her  movements  as  she  shaped  and  turned 
the  tortillas.  Presently  she  began  to  sing 

"  He  quits  his  mule,  and  mounts  his  horse, 

And  through  the  streets  directs  his  course- 
Through  the  streets  of  Gacatin, 
To  the  Alhambra  spurring  in, 

Wo  is  me,  Alhama. 

"  And  when  the  hollow  drums  of  war 

Beat  the  loud  alarm  afar, 
That  the  Moors  of  town  and  plain 
Might  answer  to  the  martial  strain, 

Wo  is  me,  Alhama." 

As  the  mournful  cadence  died  away,  she  turned 
and  started  with  well-feigned  surprise  on  meeting 
the  piercing  glance  fixed  upon  her. 

"  Ah,  Mafiuel !"  She  held  out  both  hands,  with  a 
most  amicable  expression  of  countenance.  He 
grasped  them,  and  would  have  kissed  her  beautiful 
lips,  but  she  slipped  adroitly  to  one  side — "  No,  no! 
Mafiuel.  I'll  not  permit  that  till  I  am  Sefiora  Ne- 
varro." 


94  INEZ  ;  A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO. 

"  And  when  will  that  be,  Sefiorita  ?" 

"  Not  till  the  war  is  over." 

"  But  it  has  not  begun  yet :  and  it  will  be  many 
moons  before  we  whip  these  cursed  Americanos." 

"  How  many,  think  you,  Manuel  ?" 

"  I  can't  tell,  Inez;  therefore  we  will  not  wait  till 
the  war  is  over.  The  Padre  is  ready  any  time,  and 
why  not  marry  at  once  ?" 

"  Sacra  Dios!     Ill  do  no  such  thing." 

"  And  why  not,  Inez  ?" 

"  Because  they  might  kill  you,  Mafiuel,  and  then 
what  would  become  of  me  ?" 

"  You  would  be  as  well  off  then  as  now;  there 
would  be  no  difference,  only  you  would  be  married. 
You  will  mourn  any  how,  if  I  am  killed." 

"  How  do  you  know  I  would  ?"  Her  Spanish  eyes 
*winkled  as  she  spoke ;  but  for  fear  of  going  too  far, 
she  laid  her  hand  on  his  shoulder.  Mafiuel  turned 
sharply  round. 

"  You  deserve  to  be  shot,  Mafiuel,  for  joining  in  a 
miff.  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  you  were  going  to  be 
a  soldier  ?" 

He  grasped  her  hand  tighter,  but  made  no  reply. 

"  I  say,  why  did  not  you  tell  me  first  ?" 

•'  And  if  I  had  told  you,  what  then  ?" 

"  Why  I  should  not  have  let  you  do  it,  you  savage. 
If  you  had  only  asked  me,  I  might  be  willing  to 
marry  you  next  week.  But  as  it  is,  I  am  not  going 
to  be  left  a  widow,  I  can  tell  you." 

"  Inez,  I  don't  believe  you  care  whether  I  am 
killed  or  not.  I  do  not  understand  you  at  all." 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  95 

The  girl's  eyes  filled,  and  her  lip  quivered  with 
emotion.  "  Mafiuel,  do  you  think  me  a  brute  ?  There 
is  nobody  to  love  Inez  but  her  father  and  you.  I 
am  not  cold  hearted." 

"You  speak  truth,  Inez;  and  my  uncle  will  not 
live  very  long,  for  he  has  seen  many  years.  When 
he  is  gone,  there  will  be  nobody  to  take  care  of  you 
but  me;  so  the  sooner  we  are  married  the  better." 

"  Not  so.  You  must  come  and  see  us  as  often  as 
you  can  till  the  war  is  over;  but  I  will  marry  no  one 
now." 

"  Will  you  promise  it  shall  be  as  soon  as  the  war 
is  over  ?" 

Inez  coquettishly  tossed  her  beautiful  head,  and 
advancing  to  the  fire,  gayly  exclaimed — "  While  we 
talked  the  tortillas  burned.  Come,  eat  some  supper. 
I  know  they  are  as  good  as  those  you  get  at  the 
Alamo." 

Mafiuel  seated  himself  on  a  buffalo-robe,  and  while 
partaking  of  the  evening  meal,  Inez  chatted  away  on 
indifferent  subjects,  asking,  during  the  conversation 
what  news  had  been  received  from  the  Texan 
army. 

41  We  got  news  to-day  that  they  are  marching 
down  to  Gonzales,  but  I  am  thinking  they  will  find 
hot  work." 

"  How  many  men  may  we  number,  Mafiuel,  and 
think  you  the  chances  are  for  us  ?" 

"  By  the  blessed  Virgin,  if  we  were  not  ten  to 
five,  Manuel  Nevarro  would  not  eat  this  tortilla  in 


96  INEZ  J  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

peace.  The  Captain  says  we  will  scatter  them  like 
pecans  in  a  high  wind." 

"  What  bone  is  there  to  fight  for  at  Gonzales  ?" 

"  Cannon,  Inez,  cannon.  Don't  you  know  we  sent 
a  thousand  men  to  bring  it  here,  and  the  white 
rascal  sent  five  hundred  to  keep  it  there.  By  the 
Virgin,  we  will  see  who  gets  it !" 

"  Holy  Mother  protect  us !  Mafiuel,  take  care  of 
yourself,  man,  and  rush  not  into  danger.  It  will 
profit  you  little  that  we  have  many  men,  if  some 
strong  arm  tells  your  length  on  the  sward." 

"  Never  fear,  Inez — never  fear.  We  must  not 
stop  till  every  American  turns  his  back  on  the  Alamo, 
and  his  face  to  the  East." 

"  But  you  will  not  harm  those  that  live  here  in 
peace  with  all  men  ?" 

"  The  Padre  told  our  General  yesterday,  that  we 
must  fight  till  all  submitted,  or  the  last  American 
child  was  driven  to  the  far  bank  of  the  Sabine." 

Inez  laid  her  hand  on  his  arm,  and  looking  him 
full  in  the  face,  asked,  in  a  low  tow — "  Mafiuel,  would 
you  help  to  drive  Mary  from  her  home  among  us  ? 
She  who  nursed  me  in  sickness,  and  bound  the  white 
bread  to  your  bleeding  arm,  and  made  the  tea  for 
my  dying  mother,  when  none  other  came  to  help  ? 
Mafiuel !  Manuel !  she  is  alone  in  the  world,  with  only 
her  cousin.  Spare  Mary  in  her  little  home;  she 
hurts  none,  but  makes  many  to  die  in  peace." 

Mafiuel's  face  softened  somewhat,  but  he  replied 
in  the  same  determined  tone — "  The  Padre  says  she 
is  an  accursed  heretic,  and  he  will  not  rest  till  she  is 


INEZ  ;   A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO.  9/ 

far  away.  But  I  tell  you  now,  Inez,  she  will  not  be 
harmed ;  for  he  said  he  would  see  that  she  was  pro- 
tected, and  would  himself  take  her  to  a  place  of 
safety.  He  said  she  had  been  kind  to  our  people, 
and  none  should  molest  her  or  her  cousin;  but  leave 
all  to  him." 

"  If  the  Padre  promised,  he  will  place  them  in 
safety;  he  never  forgets  to  do  what  he  says.  I  am 
satisfied,  Maffuel;  and  for  the  rest  of  the  Americans, 
the  sooner  they  are  driven  out  the  better." 

"  You  say  truly,  Inez,  the  sooner  the  better:  all, 
all  shall  go,  even  their  Doctor,  that  carries  him- 
self with  such  a  lordly  air,  and  sits  in  saddle  as 
though  never  man  had  horse  before.  But  the  moon 
is  up;  I  must  return,  for  I  watch  to-night,  and  must 
be  back  in  time."  He  put  on  his  hat  as  he  spoke. 

"  Mafiuel,  come  as  often  as  you  can,  and  let  me 
know  what  is  going  on.  You  are  the  only  one  whose 
word  I  believe;  there  are  so  many  strange  tales 
nowadays,  I  put  little  faith  in  any.  And  before  you 
go,  put  this  crucifix  about  your  neck :  'twill  save  you 
in  time  of  danger,  and  think  of  Inez  when  you  see 
it."  She  undid  the  fastening  which  held  it  round 
her  own  throat,  and  pressing  it  to  her  lips,  laid  it  in 
his  hand. 

Astonished  at  a  proof  of  tenderness  so  unexpected, 
Mafiuel  caught  her  in  his  arms,  but  disengaging  her- 
self, she  shook  her  finger  threateningly  at  him,  and 
pointed  to  the  door.  He  lighted  his  cigarrita,  and 
promising  to  come  often,  returned  to  the  Alamo. 

Left  alone,  the  Spanish  maiden  sought  her  own 


98  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

apartment,  muttering  as  she  ascended  the  steps — 
"  The  Padre  protect  you,  Mary  ?  Yes,  even  as  the 
hawk  the  new  chicken.  Take  you  to  a  place  of 
safety !  even  as  the  eagle  bears  the  young  lamb  to 
his  eyrie.  Yes,  Mafiuel,  I  have  bound  the  handker- 
chief about  your  eyes.  You  think  I  love  you,  and 
trust  both  Padre  and  crucifix !  Trust  on,  I  too  have 
been  deceived." 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

MORE  like  somnambulism  than  walking  reality  was 
now  the  life  of  Florence  Hamilton.  No  duty  was 
unperformed,  no  exertion  spared  to  conduce  to  the 
comfort  of  the  now  diminished  family  circle.  No 
words  of  repining  or  regret  were  uttered — no  tear 
dimmed  the  large  dark  eyes.  She  moved  and  lived 
as  it  were  mechanically,  without  the  agency  of  feel- 
ing or  sympathy;  yet  though  she  obtruded  her  grief 
on  none,  it  was  equally  true  that  no  gleam  of  re- 
turning cheerfulness  ever  lightened  the  gloom  which 
enveloped  her.  A  something  there  was  in  the  hope- 
less, joyless  expression  of  her  beautiful  face  which 
made  the  heart  ache ;  yet  none  offered  sympathy  or 
strove  to  console  her,  for  she  seemed  unapproach- 
able with  the  cold,  haughty  glance  of  other  days. 
Painfully  perceptible  was  the  difference  between 
Christian  fortitude  and  perfect  hopelessness — gentle, 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  99 

humble  resignation  and  despair.  There  was  no 
peace  in  her  soul,  for  her  future  was  shrouded  in 
gloom ;  she  had  no  joys  in  anticipation.  The  sun  of 
hope  had  set  forever  to  her  vision,  and  she  lived 
and  bore  her  grief  like  one  who  had  counted 
the  cost  and  knew  that  for  a  little  while  longer  she 
must  struggle  on ;  and  that  oblivion  of  the  past  was 
dispensed  only  by  the  angel  of  death.  She  acqui- 
esced in  Mary's  plan  of  opening  a  small  school,  and 
unfalteringly  performed  her  allotted  tasks  as  assis- 
tant teacher.  Unexpected  success  had  crowned  their 
efforts,  and  fifteen  pupils  daily  assembled  in  the 
room  set  apart  for  the  purpose.  Mary  had  feared 
opposition  on  the  part  of  the  Padre,  and  was  agree- 
ably surprised  at  the  number  of  Catholic  children 
committed  to  her  care. 

One  morning  early  in  October,  having  finished  her 
household  duties,  she  repaired  to  the  school-room  for 
the  day.  Florence  was  already  at  her  post ,  though  suf- 
fering from  violent  nervous  headache.  Mary  seated 
herself  with  her  back  to  the  door  and  called  one  of 
her  classes — arithmetic  it  proved ;  and  if  the  spirits 
of  the  departed  were  ever  allowed  to  return  in  vin- 
dication of  their  works,  the  ghost  of  Pythagoras  would 
certainly  have  disturbed  the  equanimity  of  the 
"  muchachos,"  who  so  obstinately  refused  the  assis- 
tance and  co-operation  of  his  rules  and  tables.  In 
vain  she  strove  to  impress  on  one  that  2  from  8  left 
6.  Like  the  little  girl  that  Wordsworth  met,  he 
persisted  M  it  was  seven."  Despairing  at  last,  she 
remanded  the  class  to  their  seats.  Anxious  to  f  acili- 
Vol.  6  E— Evans 


100  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

tate  the  progress  of  her  pupils,  Mary  spared  no  pains 
to  make  perspicuous  what  to  them  appeared  ob- 
scure. The  little  savages  could  not  or  would  not 
understand  that  the  earth  was  like  a  ball,  and  not 
only  turned  upon  its  own  axis,  but  made  the  entire 
cirumference  of  the  sun.  A  pair  of  globes  could  not 
be  procured,  and  she  taxed  her  ingenuity  for  a  sub- 
stitute; selecting  two  apples,  one  enormous,  the 
other  medium  size,  she  carefully  introduced  a  reed 
through  the  centre  of  the  smaller  apple,  thus  causing 
it  to  revolve  on  its  axis.  Calling  up  the  tyros  in 
geography,  she  took  the  smallest  apple,  or  "  Earth," 
as  she  designated  it,  and  while  causing  it  to  perform 
the  diurnal  motion,  she  carried  it  slowly  round  the 
larger,  or  "  Sun,"  as  she  termed  it:  thus  illustrating 
the  combined  movements  of  our  globe.  Even  the 
dullest  could  not  fail  to  comprehend;  and  well  satis- 
fied with  the  result  of  her  experiment,  she  carefully 
put  her  planets  by  in  one  corner  of  the  school- room 
and  proceeded  with  her  questions.  The  imperfect 
recitation  finished,  Mary  glanced  across  the  room, 
hoping  her  cousin's  patience  was  not  so  tried,  and 
some  brilliant  coruscations  in  that  direction  fixed  her 
attention.  Florence  had  dropped  her  aching  head 
on  the  desk  in  front,  shading  her  eyes  with  her 
hand;  before  her,  in  dark  array,  stood  some  half 
dozen  small  boys  just  begining  to  spell.  Each  held 
a  book  containing  illustrations  of  various  well-known 
articles  and  animals  having  the  name  beneath. 

"  U-r-n — teapot."    Elliot  Carlton,  whose  seat  was 
near,  gave  a  suppressed  giggle;  Florence  looked 


INEZ  ;   A  TALE  OF  THE   ALAMO.  IOI 

around  inquiringly,  then  dropped  her  head  again  on 
her  hand,  bidding  the  boy  *'  spell  on." 

"  S-t-a-g — goat."  Elliot  Carlton  crammed  his 
handkerchief  into  his  mouth  and  Mary  smiled. 

"  W-i-g — curly  head."  Florence  was  effectually 
roused  this  time  by  a  shout  of  laughter  from  Elliot, 
in  which  he  was  joined  by  Mary  and  Dr.  Bryant,  who 
had  just  entered  and  was  standing  in  such  a  position 
that  no  one  had  perceived  him. 

"  Really,  Miss  Hamilton,  I  must  congratulate  you 
on  the  extraordinary  progress  your  pupils  make ;  I 
was  not  aware  that  you  cultivated  their  powers  of 
comparison  in  connection  with  the  rudiments  of  or- 
thoepy." 

"  To  what  do  you  allude,  Doctor;  I  am  scarcely 
conscious  of  what  passes  around  me  this  morning," 
said  Florence,  wearily  pressing  her  hand  across  her 
aching  brow. 

"  I  am  not  surprised  that  you  are  somewhat 
stunned,  though,  after  all,"  he  continued,  pointing  to 
the  picture  of  a  ringleted  pate,  "  the  little  fellow  was 
not  far  wrong,  for  this  wig  is  incontestibly  a  curly 
head." 

With  a  faint  smile,  which  passed  as  quickly  as  it 
came,  she  dismissed  the  class  with  an  additional 
lesson. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  see  you  suffering  so  much  this 
morning,"  said  Frank,  seating  himself  beside  her; 
**  and  should  certainly  not  recommend  this  school- 
room as  an  antidote  to  nervous  attacks.  Miss  Mary, 
why  do  you  allow  your  cousin  to  overtax  her  strength? 


102  INEZ  J  A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO. 

However,  I  bring  you  good  news.  We  have  had  an 
engagment  at  Gonzales,  and,  thank  Heaven,  are  vic- 
torious. The  brave  five  hundred  sent  to  preserve 
the  field-piece  there,  encountered  double  their  num- 
ber of  the  enemy,  and  not  only  saved  the  cannon 
but  scattered  the  Mexicans  in  all  directions.  Our 
brave  band  are  marching  to  Goliad,  where  they  ex- 
pect to  supply  themselves  and  comrades  with  am- 
munition; they  have  probably  taken  the  magazine 
before  this  and  are  returning." 

*'  Thank  Heaven  we  have  triumphed !"  cried  Mary, 
fervently  clasping  her  hands;  "but  oh!  if  the  tide 
should  turn  this  way,  what  will  become  of  us  ? 
The  Mexicans  are  numerous  here,  and  the  Alamo 
strongly  fortified  and  in  their  possession."  She 
turned  her  eyes  inquiringly  on  Frank,  and  started  as 
she  met  the  earnest,  searching  expression  of  his, 
bent  full  upon  her  face. 

"  How  pale  you  have  grown  of  late,"  he  murmured 
as  to  himself,  and  replied  to  her  questioning  glance 
— "  I  think,  myself,  there  is  much  danger  incurred 
by  remaining  here;  but  rest  assured  you  shall  not  be 
harmed.  I  am  watching  the  signs  of  the  times,  and 
will  warn  you  should  peril  approach." 

He  took  Florence's  hand,  and  pressed  it  as  he 
spoke ;  then  turning  to  Mary,  who  had  walked  away, 
he  said :  "  I  must  insist  on  your  cousin  having  rest ; 
she  is  weary  and  too  much  excited,  and  you,  who 
are  a  good  nurse,  must  take  better  care  of  her." 

"  Indeed,  Doctor,  I  did  my  best  to  prevent  her 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO.  IO3 

teaching  to-day,  but  she  would  not  listen  to  my  en- 
treaties," replied  Mary  with  averted  head. 

"  If  I  might  venture  to  advise  yourself  and  cousin, 
Miss  Hamilton,  I  should  suggest  the  discontinuance 
of  your  school,  at  least  for  the  present ;  for  in  these 
stormy  times  one  scarce  knows  what  a  day  may  bring 
forth;  and,  indeed,  your  pupils  are  dropping  off 
within  the  last  few  days,  and  you  had  better  disband 
voluntarily." 

"  I  believe  you  are  right,  Doctor;  and  if  Mary 
ooncurs  with  us,  I  think  we  will  follow  your  advice." 

"  Do  as  you  think  best,  Florry ;  I  suppose  we  would 
have  no  pupils  soon,  even  if  we  continued  our  ef- 
forts !  yet  I  dislike  very  much  to  give  up  the  school 
so  very  soon."  Her  voice  faltered  slightly  and  her 
cheek  grew  paler. 

"  Your  reluctance  to  dismiss  these  children,  I  am 
not  surprised  at ;  and  if  it  will  relieve  you  in  the 
least,  allow  me  to  see  their  parents  and  arrange  all 
pecuniary  matters.  You  certainly  feel  no  hesitation 
in  confiding  this  to  me." 

"  Thank  you,  Dr.  Bryant,  you  are  very  kind;  but 
we  will  not  burden  you  with  an  additional  trouble. 
I  prefer  taking  these  children  home  to  their  parents 
who  committed  them  U  my  care;  and  as  you  and 
Florry  think  iv.  advisable,  we  will  close  our  school 
this  evening.  Believe  me,  however,  that  in  refusing 
your  kind  oifer,  I  am  not  insensible  to,  but  appre- 
ciate fully,  the  motives  which  dictated  it." 

"  Feel  no  hesitation  in  calling  on  me  to  perform 
any  of  the  many  services  a  gentleman  friend  may  so 


104  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

often  render.  If  you  knew  how  gladly  I  would  serve 
you,  I  am  sure  you  would  not  fail  to  do  so." 

Shaking  hands  with  Florence  who  stood  near,  he 
turned  to  go,  but  paused  at  the  threshold. 

At  this  moment  a  slight  disturbance  in  a  distant 
corner  of  the  room  attracted  their  attention,  and 
springing  forward,  little  Maria  Carlton  exclaimed — 
"  Oh,  Miss  Mary,  what  do  you  think?  Somebody  has 
eat  up  the  world,  and  bit  a  great  big  piece  out  of 
the  sun!" 

When  the  merriment  this  excited  had  in  some  de- 
gree subsided,  Dr.  Bryant  laughingly  said — "  I  am 
much  afraid  you  have  a  Polyphemus  among  your 
pupils.  Miss  Mary,  do  discover  the  incipient  mon- 
ster, and  eject  him  forthwith.  Heavens,  what 
powers  of  digestion  he  must  possess !  Good-morning, 
ladies — good- morning."  And  with  a  bow  he  left  the 
house. 

"  Florry,  dear,  do  try  and  sleep  some !  I  will  do  all 
that  is  necessary  about  the  children.  True,  there  is 
not  enough  to  occupy  me  long,  and  meanwhile  you 
must  impart  the  news  of  this  victory  to  Aunt 
Lizzy." 


INEZ  J  A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO.  IOJ 


CHAPTER  XV. 


-I  might  not  this  believe 


Without  the  sensible  and  true  avouch 
Of  mine  own  eyes." 

— Shakespeare. 

TWILIGHT  had  fallen  slowly,  for  the  evening  was 
heavy  and  wet,  and  dark  masses  of  cloud  driven  by 
the  northern  blasts  sailed  gloomily  overhead.  Nature 
wore  a  dreary  aspect,  and  one  involuntarily  turned  in- 
ward for  amusement.  A  bright  light  gleamed  from 
the  window  of  Florence  Hamilton's  humble  home,  and 
her  little  dining-room  seemed  by  contrast  extremely 
cheerful;  yet  the  hearts  of  its  inmates  were  more  in 
accordance  with  the  gloom  which  reigned  without. 
Aunt  Lizzy,  growing  somewhat  infirm  of  late,  had 
retired  earlier  than  usual.  Florence  had  been  sew- 
ing all  the  afternoon,  but  now  lay  with  closed  eyes 
on  the  couch,  her  hands  clasped  over  her  head. 
Mary  sat  near  the  table  holding  an  open  volume,  but 
her  thoughts  had  evidently  wandered  far  away !  for 
her  gaze  was  fixed  abstractedly  on  the  fire  which 
blazed  and  crackled  at  her  feet.  The  girl's  counte- 
nance was  an  interesting  study  as  she  sat  wrapped 
in  her  saddened  thoughts.  A  care-worn  expression 
rested  upon  her  face,  as  though  some  weighty  re- 
sponsibility too  soon  had  fallen  on  one  so  frail.  The 
cheeks  were  very  pale,  and  now  and  then  across  the 
lips  there  came  a  quiver,  as  though  she  struggled 


106  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

inwardly,  and  fain  would  give  no  outward  show  of 
grief.  In  truth,  an  almost  spirituarexpression  had 
come  over  her  features;  the  impress  of  some  deep 
and  hidden  sorrow,  nobly  borne,  though  chasing  the 
rosy  hue  from  her  cheeks.  Sadder  grew  the  look, 
and  some  acute  pain  wrinkled  her  brow  as  she  threw 
aside  the  book  and  covered  her  face  with  her  hands; 
while  a  heavy  yet  smothered  sigh  struggled  forth,  as 
if  striving  to  relieve  the  aching  heart. 

The  door  opened  noiselessly,  and  a  dark  shrouded 
form  glided  with  soft  steps  to  the  chair,  and  laid  a 
heavy  hand  on  her  shoulder.  Mary  raised  her  head 
and  starting  up,  gazed  inquiringly  at  the  muffled 
face,  while  the  intruder  pointed  to  the  motionless 
form  of  Florence,  and  laid  a  finger  on  her  lip.  Then 
beckoning  Mary  to  follow,  she  receded  with  stealthy 
tread  to  the  door  which  was  softly  closed,  and  walked 
hurriedly  on  till  she  reached  a  large  rose-tree  which 
shaded  the  window.  Mary  shivered  as  the  piercing 
wind  swept  over  her,  and  strove  in  vain  to  suppress 
a  fit  of  coughing.  There  was  a  moment's  silence. 

"  You  did  not  know  me  ?" 

Mary  started.  "  I  did  not,  till  you  spoke;  but, 
Inez,  what  brings  you  out  on  such  a  night?" 

Inez  took  off  the  mantilla  which  had  so  effectually 
concealed  her  features  and  threw  it  round  the  frail, 
drooping  form  before  her. 

"  No,  no,  Inez,  you  will  take  cold;"  and  Mary  ten- 
dered it  back. 

It  was  tossed  off  contemptuously,  and  mingled 
with  a  bitter  laugh  came  the  reply — "  I  am  not  cold, 


INEZ  :   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  TO/ 

Marifiita,  nor  ever  shall  be  but  once  again.  I  am 
burning  with  an  inward  fire  that  will  not  be 
quenched." 

"  You  are  ill,  Inez,  and  want  some  medicine;  tell 
me  where  and  how  you  suffer." 

"  No,  no.  I  want  nothing  from  you  or  yours:  I 
come  to  help,  not  to  ask.  Mary,  why  is  it  you  have 
made  me  love  you  so,  when  I  hate  yonder  dark-eyed 
girl  ?  But  I  am  losing  time.  I  come  to  warn  you  of 
danger,  and  even  now  I  am  watched ;  but  no  matter, 
listen  to  what  I  have  to  say.  The  Padre  hates  you, 
even  as — as  I  hate  him,  and  has  sworn  your  ruin.  I 
tell  you  now  you  must  fly  from  San  Antonio,  and 
fly  quickly,  for  danger  is  at  hand.  My  countrymen 
are  many  here,  and  he  is  stronger  than  all.  You 
and  I  have  thwarted  him,  and  the  walls  of  a  far  off 
convent  are  our  destination — you,  and  your  cousin, 
and  myself.  I  am  at  heart  no  Catholic ;  I  have  seen 
the  devil,  if  there  be  one,  in  my  confessor.  I  have 
heard  him  lie,  and  seen  him  take  the  widow's  and 
the  orphan's  portion.  Mary,  if  there  was  a  God, 
would  he  suffer  such  as  my  Padre  to  minister  in  his 
holy  place,  and  touch  the  consecrated  vessels  ?  No, 
no;  there  is  none,  or  he  would  be  cut  off  from  the 
face  of  the  earth.'* 

"  Inez !  Inez !  stop  and  hear  me." 

"  No,  no !  time  waits  for  none,  and  I  have  little 
more  to  say.  Mary,  you  are  deceived;  your  cousin 
is  not  what  you  think.  She  is  a  Catholic ;  for  mine 
own  eyes  have  seen  her  in  the  confessional,  and  my 
own  ears  have  listened  to  her  aves  and  paters." 


108  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

Mary  uttered  a  deep  groan,  and  clasped  Inez's 
arm  murmuring — "  You  are — you  must  be  delirious 
or  mad :  Florry  deceive  me !  impossible !" 

"Ah!  poor  deluded  Mary:  do  you  trust  any  on 
earth  ?  Yet  I  would  trust  you,  with  your  white  face 
and  soft  blue  eyes;  and  there  is  one  other  I  would 
trust — but  no  more.  You  will  not  believe  that  Flor- 
ence has  turned  from  the  faith  of  her  fathers  ?  Go 
to  her  as  she  sleeps  yonder,  and  feel  with  your  own 
hand  the  crucifix  around  her  neck.  Ha !  you  hold 
tight  to  my  arm:  I  tell  you  your  Cousin  Florence  is 
as  black-hearted  as  the  Padre,  for  he  told  me  she 
had  promised  her  dying  father  to  follow  his  advice 
in  all  things,  yet  she  tells  you  not  of  this :  and  again, 
has  she  not  won  the  love  of  a  good,  a  noble  man, 
and  does  she  not  scorn  his  love ;  else  why  is  his  cheek 
pale,  and  his  proud  step  slow  ?  Marifiita,  I  have 
read  you  long  ago.  You  love  your  Doctor,  but 
he  loves  that  Florence,  whose  heart  is  black  and 
cold  as  this  night.  You  are  moaning  in  your  agony; 
but  all  must  suffer.  I  have  suffered  more  than  you; 
I  shall  always  suffer,,  My  stream  of  bitterness  is 
inexhaustible^  daily  I  am  forced  to  quaff  the  black, 
burning  waters.  Ha !  I  know  my  lot — I  swallow  and 
murmur  not.  Mary,  I  am  sorry  to  make  you  drink 
so  much  that  is  bitter  to-night;  but  you  must,  for 
your  own  good;  better  a  friend  should  hold  the  cup 
and  let  you  taste,  than  have  it  rudely  forced  upon 
you." 

"  Why  have  you  told  me  this,  Inez  ?  I  never  did 
you  harm,  nor  gave  you  pain." 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  109 

"  Poor  pale  face !  I  want  to  save  you  from  worse 
than  death — yea,  from  a  living  death.  Go  from  this 
place :  for  if  you  are  here  a  month  hence,  you  will  be 
lost.  Your  people  here  will  be  defeated,  and  then 
the  Mexicans  will  hand  you  all  over  to  the  Padre, 
who  says  he  means  to  put  you  where  you  will  be 
protected.  Mark  me:  you  wiH  be  sent  where  no 
cry  for  succor  will  ever  be  heard.  You  will  be 
imprisoned  for  life,  where  none  can  come  back  to 
tell  the  tale.  Mary,  go  to  your  friends  in  the  States; 
or  if  you  can  not  get  there,  go  where  your  people 
are  many,  and  take  your  Doctor  with  you,  for  blood 
will  yet  run  down  these  streets,  and  I  would  not  that 
his  swelled  the  stream.  He  has  promised  to  watch 
over  you ;  tell  him  to  take  you  from  here — from  this 
cursed  place.  I  have  crept  from  home  this  dark 
night  to  tell  you  of  your  danger;  I  am  watched,  for 
the  Padre  suspects  me,  but  you  were  always  good; 
you  nursed  me  and  my  dying  mother,  and  were  kind 
to  Manuel,  and  I  would  risk  more  than  I  have  to 
help  you.  I  have  done  all  I  can;  I  charge  you,  wait 
not  till  the  last  moment." 

Inez  stretched  out  her  hand  for  her  mantilla,  which 
she  folded  closely  about  her  face,  and  then  clasped 
Mary's  hand  in  hers. 

"  Inez!  oh,  Inez!" 

"  Well,  Marifiita,  I  may  not  linger  here.  I  will 
see  you  again  if  I  can;  but  if  we  meet  no  more,  for. 
get  not  Inez  de  Garcia,  or  the  love  she  bears  you ; 
and  as  the  greatest  blessing  now  for  you,  I  hope  you 
may  soon  find  peace  in  the  quiet  grave.  I  shall 


i io         INEZ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

never  find  rest  till  I  sleep  that  last,  unbroken 
sleep!"  : 

"  Inez,  my  heart  is  wrung  by  what  I  have  heard 
to-night;  but  I  beg  of  yon,  as  a  last  favor,  do  not, 
oh,  do  not  turn  away  from  God!  Inez,  there  is  a 
God ;  and  death  is  not  an  everlasting  sleep.  Here- 
after is  an  awful  tribunal;  and  if  not  again  on  earth, 
you  and  I  shall  assuredly  meet  before  God.  Oh! 
believe  that  he  will  yet  bless  you :  that  he  will  enable 
you  to  bear  all  earthly  trials;  and,  if  faithful,  he  will 
receive  you  at  last  into  the  kingdom  of  eternal  rest. 
Try  to  forget  the  past,  and  in  this  book  you  will  find 
the  path  of  duty  so  clearly  marked  out,  that  you  can 
not  mistake  it.  'Tis  all  I  have  about  me,  yet  I  pray 
God  it  may  be  the  greatest  treasure  you  possess." 

She  drew  a  small  Bible  from  her  pocket  as  she 
spoke,  and  pressed  it  within  Inez's  fingers,  adding 
— "  I  can  not  sufficiently  thank  you  for  your  kind- 
ness in  warning  me  of  my  danger ;  I  shall  leave  this 
place  as  soon  as  possible,  and  shall  constantly  pray 
that  you  may  be  spared  and  blessed." 

She  held  out  her  hands.  Inez  clasped  them  tightly 
for  a  moment,  and  then  glided  down  the  walk  as 
noiselessly  as  she  came. 


INEZ  ;   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  Ill 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

"  Be  sure  that  you  teach  nothing  to  the  people  but  what  is 
certainly  to  be  found  in  Scripture." 

— Bishop  Taylor. 

MARY  IRVING  soughf  her  chamber,  and  sinking  on 
her  knees,  fervently  implored  the  blessing  and  guid- 
ance of  Him  who  is  very  precious  help  in  time  of 
need.  She  prayed  for  strength  to  meet  with  Chris- 
tian fortitude  the  trials  which  awaited  her,  and  in  all 
the  vicissitudes  of  her  checkered  life  to  pursue  un- 
falteringly the  path  of  duty.  She  strove  to  collect 
her  scattered  thoughts,  and  with  what  composure 
she  could  assume,  returned  to  the  dining-room.  The 
fire  was  burning  low  on  the  hearth,  and  the  single 
candle  gave  but  a  faint,  unsteady  light.  Florence 
was  slowly  pacing  up  and  down  the  floor;  she  raised 
her  head  as  Mary  entered,  then  sunk  it  wearily  on 
her  bosom  and  resumed  her  walk. 

"  Florry,  come  sit  here  by  me — I  want  to  consult 
you." 

"  Is  it  very  important,  Mary  ?  I  feel  to-night  as 
though  I  could  comprehend  nothing;  let  me  wear  off 
this  dull  pain  in  my  heart  and  head  by  walking,  if 
possible." 

"  My  dear  Florry,  it  is  important;  and  therefore 
you  will  forgive  me  if  I  claim  your  attention." 

Florence  seated  herself,  and  as  she  did  so,  leaned 
her  head  on  Mary's  shoulder,  while  the  latter  wound 


112  INEZ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

her  arm  fondly  about  her,  and  gently  stroked  back 
the  raven  hair  from  her  aching  brow. 

"  Since  we  broke  up  our  school,  I  have  been 
warned  that  we  are  in  danger,  and  advised  to  leave 
San  Antonio  as  speedily  as  possible;  for  strife  is 
evidently  at  hand,  and  a  battle-ground  is  no  place 
for  those  so  unprotected  as  you  and  I." 

"  Dr.  Bryant  has  promised  to  watch  over  us ;  and 
surely  you  have  implicit  confidence  in  both  his  judg- 
ment and  honor.  What  do  you  fear,  Mary  ?" 

"  Every  thing.  We  may  remain  here  too  long — 
till  escape  will  be  impossible ;  and  then  who  may  pre- 
dict with  any  degree  of  certainty  the  chances  of  war  ? 
That  Dr.  Bryant  will  do  all  that  a  friend  or  brother 
would,  I  doubt  not ;  but  he  may  be  powerless  to  help 
when  danger  assails;  and  even  if  he  should  not,  to 
travel  from  here  in  stormy  times  would  not  be  so  easy 
as  you  imagine." 

"  Who  has  been  filling  your  head  with  such  ideas  ? 
It  could  be  none  other  than  that  dark-browed  Inez." 

"  If  she  has,  could  aught  but  disinterested  friend- 
ship actuate  her  to  such  a  course  ?" 

"  Really,  Mary,  I  should  not  have  given  you  credit 
for  so  much  credulity.  Do  you  place  any  confidence 
in  what  that  girl  may  tell  you  ?" 

"  I  do  rely  on  what  she  confides  to  me.  Has  she 
ever  given  you  cause  to  doubt  her  sincerity  ?  In- 
deed, Florry,  you  do  her  injustice.  I  would  willingly 
— God  only  knows  how  willingly — doubt  some  por- 
tions of  what  I  have  heard  from  her  lips,  but  I  dare 
not." 


INEZ  ;   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  IIJ 

"  Mary,  can  yon  not  perceive  that  she  is  jealous  of 
us  and  hopes  by  operating  on  your  fears,  to  drive  us 
from  this  place  ?  The  Padre  hinted  as  much  to  me 
not  long  since." 

"  Florry,  it  is  for  you  to  say  whether  Inez  speaks 
truth.  From  her  lips  I  had  the  words — Your  cousin 
Florence  is  a  Papist,  wears  a  crucifix  about  her  neck, 
and  kneels  in  the  confessional.  Oh,  Florry !  will  you 
—can  you— do  you  deny  the  charge  ?" 

The  cousins  stood  up,  and  each  gazed  full  upon 
the  other..  Mary's  face  was  colorless  as  marble,  and 
her  hands  were  tightly  clasped  as  she  bent  forward 
with  a  longing,  searching,  eager  look.  A  crimson 
glow  rushed  to  Florence's  very  temples;  then  re- 
ceded, leaving  an  ashy  paleness. 

"  I  am  a  member  of  the  Church  of  Rome." 

Mary  groaned  and  sank  back  into  her  chair,  at 
this  confirmation  of  her  fears.  Florence  leaned 
against  the  chimney  and  continued  in  a  low,  but 
clear  voice — "  I  have  little  to  say  in  defense  of  what 
you  may  consider  a  deception.  I  deny  the  right  of 
any  on  earth  to  question  my  motives  or  actions;  yet 
I  would  not  that  you,  Mary,  who  hav.e  loved  me  so 
long  and  truly,  should  be  alienated  without  hearing 
the  reasons  which  I  have  to  allege  in  favor  of  my 
conduct.  Mary,  think  well  when  I  ask  you  'what 
prospect  of  happiness  there  was  for  me  a  month 
since  ?  Alone  in  the  wide  world,  with  ruined  hopes 
and  a  long,  long,  joyless  future  stretching  gloomily 
before  me.  I  was  weary  of  life.  I  longed  for 
death,  not  as  a  passport  to  the  joys  of  heaven  (for 


114  INEZ  J  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

I  had  never  sought  or  deserved  them),  but  as  bring- 
ing rest,  peace,  and  oblivion  of  the  past.  I  viewed 
it  only  as  a  long,  last,  dreamless  sleep.  Mary,  I  was 
groping  my  way  in  what  seemed  endless  night,  when 
suddenly  there  came  a  glimmer  of  light,  faint  as  the 
first  trembling  rays  of  the  evening  star,  and  just 
pierced  the  darkness  in  which  I  wandered.  The 
Padre  came  to  me,  and  pointed  to  the  long-forgotten 
God,  and  bade  me  seek  him  who  hath  said,  '  Come 
unto  me  all  ye  who  are  weary,  and  I  will  give  you 
rest.1  Mary,  do  you  wonder  that  I  clasped  the  hand 
outstretched  to  save  me,  and  besought  him  to  lead 
me  to  the  outraged  and  insulted  God  ?  My  eyes  were 
opened,  and  looking  down  the  long,  dark  vi"ta  of  the 
past,  I  saw  how,  worshiping  a  creature,  I  built  a 
great  barrier  between  myself  and  heaven.  I  saw 
my  danger,  and  resolved,  ere  it  was  too  late,  to  dedi- 
cate the  remainder  of  my  life  to  him  who  gave  it. 
The  door  of  the  church  was  opened,  and  Father 
Mazzolin  pointed  out  the  way  by  which  I  might  be 
saved.  The  paths  seem  flowery,  and  he  tells  me  the 
ways  are  those  of  pleasantness  and  peace,  and  I  have 
resolved  to  try  them.  Once,  and  once  only,  I  met 
him  at  confession,  hoping,  by  unvailing  my  suffer- 
ings to  a  man  of  God,  to  receive  comfort  of  a 
higher  order  than  I  might  otherwise  expect.  He 
has  granted  me  absolution  for  the  past,  and  I  doubt 
not  that  in  future  the  intercession  of  the  blessed 
saints  in  heaven  will  avail  with  my  offended 
Maker." 
"  Florry,  my  own  dear  Florry!  hear  me,  for  none 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  1 15 

on  earth  loves  you  as  I  do.  Do  you  not  believe  the 
Bible — God's  written  word  ?  Has  he  not  said, '  there 
is  one  mediator  between  God  and  man — the  man 
Christ  Jesus  ?'  Has  not  Christ  made  propitiation  for 
our  sin,  and  assured  us  there  is  but  one  way  where- 
by we  may  be  saved,  repentance  for  our  past  sins 
and  faith  in  the  sufficiency  of  his  atonement  ?  Do 
you  doubt  the  efficacy  of  Christ's  suffering  and  death  ? 
Tell  me,  Florry,  by  what  authority  you  invoke  your 
saints  ?  Surely  you  do  so  in  opposition  to  the  ex- 
press declaration  of  the  Bible  already  quoted — '  there 
is  one  mediator  between  God  and  man.' " 

"  The  holy  Fathers  of  our  church  have  been  in  the 
habit  of  praying  for  the  intercession  of  saints  from 
the  earliest  periods,  and  none  have  questioned  their 
fervent  piety,  or  doubted  the  orthodoxy  of  their 
faith,"  replied  Florence. 

"  In  the  first  place,"  said  Mary,  "  it  would  be  ri- 
diculous in  the  extreme  to  advocate  all  the  opinions 
and  tenets  advanced  by  those  same  Fathers.  St. 
Augustine  doubted  the  existence  of  the  antipodes; 
Tertullian  emphatically  pronounced  second  mar- 
riages adultery;  Origen  denied  the  sin  of  David  in 
causing  the  death  of  Uriah,  and  has  often  been  ac- 
cused of  favoring  Arianism,  and  the  doctrine  of 
transmigration  of  soul ;  while  it  is  a  well-known  fact 
that  Jerome,  to  vindicate  Peter  from  the  charge  of 
dissimulation,  actually  accused  St.  Paul  of  lying,  and 
thereby  favoring  deceit.  In  the  second  place,  are 
you  quite  sure  that  they  were  in  the  habit  of  invok- 
ing saints  ?" 


Il6  INEZ  J   A  TALE   OF  THE   ALAMO. 

"  Certainly,  Mary;  for  it  is  undeniable  that  St. 
Augustine  in  his  Meditations  calls  on  the  blessed 
Virgin,  and  all  the  angels  and  apostles  in  heaven  to 
intercede  with  God  in  his  behalf.  Father  Mazzolin 
pointed  out  the  passage  no  later  than  last  week  to 
remove  the  doubts  which  I  confess  I  entertained,  as 
to  whether  it  was  proper  and  in  accordance  with  the 
practice  of  the  Fathers  to  implore  such  intercession." 

"  And  does  your  conviction  rest  on  so  frail  a  basis  ? 
Here  what  the  Rev.  Dr.  Milner  says  on  this  subject 
in  the  first  volume  of  his  Ecclesiastical  History;"  and 
taking  it  from  the  shelf,  Mary  read: 

" '  The  book  of  Meditations,  though  more  known 
to  English  readers  than  any  other  of  the  works 
ascribed  to  Augustine,  on  account  of  the  translation 
of  it  into  our  language  by  Stanhope,  seems  not  to  be 
his,  both  on  account  of  its  style,  which  is  sententious, 
concise,  abrupt,  and  void  of  any  of  those  classical 
elegancies  which  now  and  then  appear  in  our  author's 
genuine  writings ;  and  also,  on  account  of  the  prayers 
to  deceased  saints  which  it  contains.  This  last  cir- 
cumstance peculiarly  marks  it  to  have  been  of  a  later 
date  than  the  age  of  Augustine.  Frauds  of  this  kind 
were  commonly  practiced  on  the  works  of  the  Fath- 
ers in  the  monastic  times.' 

"  And  why,  Florry,  does  it  peculiarly  mark  it  as 
spurious  ?  Because,  had  he  entertained  these  views 
on  so  vital  a  point,  the  expression  of  them  would 
most  certainly  have  occurred  in  his  other  very  vol- 
uminous works.  I  have  searched  his  Confessions 
for  instances  of  this  invocation,  either  from  himself 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO. 

4 

or  anxious  mother,  and  had  he  believed  as  the  Catho- 
lic prelates  assert,  in  this  intercession  of  the  dead,  it 
would  most  assuredly  have  been  sought  in  the  hour 
of  his  suffering  and  fear,  lest  he  should  be  given  over. 
But  I  find  none.  On  the  contrary,  these  two  pas- 
sages occur  in  his  Confessions:  '  I  now  sought  the 
way  of  obtaining  strength  to  enjoy  thee,  and  found 
it  not,  till  I  embraced  the  mediator  between  God  and 
man,  Jesus  Christ,  who  is  above  all,  God,  blessed  for 
ever,  calling  and  saying,  I  am  the  way,  the  truth,  and 
the  life.'  And  here,  Florry,  is  another  extract  from 
the  same  book  still  more  conclusive — '  Whom  shall  I 
look  to  as  my  mediator  ?  Shall  I  go  to  angels  ? 
Many  have  tried  this,  and  have  been  fond  of  visions, 
and  have  deserved  to  be  the  sport  of  the  illusions 
which  they  loved.  The  true  mediator,  whom  in  thy 
secret  mercy  thou  hast  shown  to  the  humble,  and 
hast  sent,  that  by  his  example  they  might  also  learn 
humility,  the  man  Christ  Jesus,  hath  appeared  a 
mediator  between  mortal  sinners  and  the  immortal 
Holy  One,  that  he  might  justify  the  ungodl/,  and  de- 
liver them  from  death.'  Yet  in  your  manuals  you 
are  directed  to  say, '  Mother  of  God,  command  thy 
son;'  and  one  of  your  prayers,  Florry,  is  as  follows: 
4  Hail,  Holy  Queen !  Mother  of  Mercy — our  life,  our 
sweetness,  and  our  hope !  To  thee  do  we  cry,  poor 
banished  sons  of  Eve,  to  thee  do  we  send  up  our 
sighs,  mourning  and  weeping  in  the  valley  of  tears. 
Turn  thee,  most  gracious  Advocate,  thy  eyes  of 
mercy  toward  us.'  And  at  vespers  you  say, 


Il8  INEZ  ;  A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO. 

'  Hail,  Mary  !  queen  of  heavenly  spheres, 
Hail !  whom  the  angelic  host  reveres  !' 

Florry,  in  all  candor,  let  us  investigate  this  subject; 
we  will  consult  both  the  Bible  and  the  Fathers,  or,  if 
you  prefer  it,  by  the  words  of  the  latter  only  we  will 
decide;  for  truth  we  are  searching." 

"  Mary,  let  me  read  a  second  time  those  passages 
from  St.  Augustine.  Strange  I  should  have  been  so 
deceived,"  she  continued,  as  having  perused  them, 
she  returned  the  book  to  her  cousin. 

"  Florry,  can  you  perceive  any  encouragement 
there  given  to  the  practice  of  invocation  ?  Does  not 
St.  Augustine  expressly  denounce  it  ?" 

"  There  can  be  no  doubt  of  his  sentiments  on  this 
point ;  but  Mary,  this  is  only  one  decision,  when  I 
have  been  assured  that  the  united  voices  of  many 
Fathers  established  it  without  a  doubt,  even  suppos- 
ing there  was  no  authority  in  Holy  writ  for  such  a 
custom — which,  however,  we  have, for  did  not  Jacob 
wrestle  with  an  angel,  and  did  not  his  blessing  de- 
send  upon  him  ?" 

"  But  Christ  had  not  then  died ;  neither  had  the 
Christian  dispensation  succeeded  to  the  old  Jewish 
rites  and  customs.  If  you  will  turn  to  Jeremiah,  you 
will  also  read  how  the  curse  of  God  was  pronounced 
against  the  idolaters  who  offered  incense  to  the  Queen 
of  Heaven :  yet  you  do  the  same.  Still,  by  the  tra- 
dition of  the  elders,  we  will  judge.  Hear  the  words 
of  Paulinus  on  this  subject — '  Paul  is  not  a  mediator; 
he  is  an  embassador  for  Christ.  John  intercedes  not, 
but  declares  that  this  mediator  Is  the  propitiation  for 


INEZ  ;   A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO.  119 

our  sin.  The  Son  of  Almighty  God,  because  he  re- 
deemed us  with  the  price  of  his  blood,  is  justly  called 
the  true  Redeemer.'  Again  the  great  and  good  Am- 
brose— '  We  follow  thee,  Lord  Jesus,  but  draw  us  up 
that  we  may  follow.  No  one  rises  without  thee. 
Let  us  seek  him,  and  embrace  his  feet,  and  worship 
him,  that  he  may  say  to  us,  Fear  not.  I  am  the  re- 
mission of  sin.  I  am  the  light,  I  am  the  life.  He 
that  cometh  to  me  shall  not  see  death ;  because  he  is 
the  fullness  of  divinity.'  One  more,  Florry — *  Come 
to  yourselves  again,  ye  wretched  transgressors !  Re- 
turn ye  blind  to  your  light !'  Shall  we  not  believe 
God,  when  he  swears  that  neither  Noah,  nor  Daniel, 
nor  Job,  shall  deliver  one  son  or  daughter  by  their 
righteousness.  For  this  end  he  makes  the  declara- 
tion, that  none  might  put  confidence  in  the  interces- 
sion of  saints.  Ye  fools !  who  run  to  Rome  to  seek 
there  for  the  intercession  of  an  Apostle.  When  will 
ye  be  wise  ?  What  would  St.  Augustine  say  of  you, 
whom  ye  have  so  often  quoted  ?  Such,  Florry,  are 
the  words  of  the  celebrated  Claud  of  Turin;  but  as 
he  is  regarded  by  your  church  somewhat  as  a  re- 
former, I  will  just  read  one  passage  from  Anselm^ 
whose  orthodoxy  no  Papist  ever  questioned.  Speak- 
ing of  the  intercession  of  Christ — '  If  the  people  sin 
a  thousand  times,  they  need  no  other  Saviour;  be- 
cause this  suffices  for  all  things,  and  cleanses  from 
all  sin.'  Florry,  we  have  jointly  admired  the  char- 
acter of  one  of  the  earliest  martyrs,  St.  Cyprian. 
Will  you  hear  him  on  this  subject  ? — '  Christ,  if  it  be 
possible,  let  us  all  follow.  Let  us  be  baptized  la  hie 


110  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

name.  He  opens  to  us  the  way  of  life.  He  bring 
us  back  to  Paradise.  He  leads  us  to  the  heavenly 
kingdom.  Redeemed  by  his  blood,  we  shall  be  the 
blessed  of  God  the  Father.'  Yet  you  say  in  your 
prayers, '  We  fly  to  thy  patronage,  oh !  holy  Mother 
of  God !'  And  again 

1  Hail,  sacred  gate. ' 

Florence,  you  have  cited  the  Fathers:  by  their  own 
words  are  you  not  convinced  as  to  intercession  ?" 

"  Mary,  I  was  asking  myself  if  vital  Christianity 
could  exist  in  any  church  which  allows  such  a  system 
of  deceit  on  the  part  of  its  clergy  ?  for  deceived  I 
assuredly  have  been." 

*4  You  should  remember,  Florry,  that  the  promul- 
gation of  Papal  doctrines,  and  the  aggrandizement 
of  the  Romish  church,  is  the  only  aim  of  its  priest- 
hood; consequently,  all  means  which  conduce  to 
this  great  object  are  unscrupulously  employed. 
Even  crime  is  sanctioned  where  the  good  of  the 
church  can  be  promoted." 

"  Surely,  Mary,  you  can  not  mean  what  you  say  ? 
Crime  sanctioned  by  the  Romish  clergy!  Impos- 
sible! How  dare  you  make  such  an  assertion  ?" 

"  It  doubtless  strikes  you,  Florry,  as  strangely 
uncharitable  and  unchristian;  yet,  if  you  will  con- 
sult the  records  of  the  past,  I  venture  to  say  you 
will  think  very  differently.  What  memorable  event 
occurred  on  one  of  your  saints'  days — the  24th  of 
August,  1572?  At  dead  of  night  the  signal  was  given, 
and  the  Papal  ministers  of  France  perpetrated  the 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE    OF  THE  ALAMO.  121 

foulest  deed  that  stains  the  page  of  history.  Thirty 
thousand  Huguenots  were  butchered  in  their  beds. 
And  what  distinguished  the  murderer  from  the 
doomed  victim  ?  A  white  cross  on  the  hat  of  the 
former.  How  did  Imperial  Rome  receive  the  tidings 
of  this  massacre  ?  "The  cannons  were  discharged, 
the  Pope  ordered  a  jubilee  and  grand  procession, 
and  caused  a  Te  Deum  to  be  chanted.  I  ask  yon 
Florry,  was  not  this  sanctioning  crime  ?  Again,  how 
died  the  great  Henry  IV  ?  The  celebrated  edict  of 
Nantes  sealed  his  doom,  and  the  infamous  Ravaillac, 
for  the  good  of  the  Romish  church,  conveniently 
forgot  the  commandment  of  Jehovah,  and  merito- 
riously assassinated  him.  Florry,  I  have  myself jheard 
a  Papist  say, '  that  whatever  her  priest  commanded, 
she  would  unhesitatingly  perform.'  Shocked  at  the 
broad  assertion,  I  replied :  '  You  surely  do  not  know 
what  you  are  saying.  Obey  the  priest  in  all  things! 
Why,  you  would  not  commit  murder  at  his  command?' 
4  Certainly  I  would, if  my  priest  bid  me;  for  if  I  obey 
him,  I  can  not  do  wrong.'  I  know  this  to  be  true; 
and  I  ask  you  what  is  the  inference  ?  You  admit 
that  you  have  been  deceived.  Pious  frauds  were 
committed  in  the  time  of  Ambrose  and  Chrysostom; 
yet  hear  what  St.  Augustine  says:  '  Lying  is  the 
saying  of  one  thing,  and  thinking  of  another;'  and  in 
all  cases,  even  for  most  pious  purposes,  he  excludes 
lying  as  unchristian  and  anti-scriptural." 

Florence  was  leaning  with  clasped  hands  on  the 
table,  gazing  intently  at  her  cousin;  while  Mary 
knelt  on  the  other  side,  her  hand  resting  on  the  large 


122  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

family  Bible.  The  light  fell  full  on  her  pale  face  as 
she  knelt ;  her  chestnnt  curls  half  vailing  the  pure 
white  cheek,  and  the  dark- blue  eyes,  earnest,  and  yet 
almost  angelic,  in  their  gentle,  loving  expression. 

"  Oh,  Florry !  need  I  implore  you  in  future  to  look 
to  Christ  alone  as  the  author  of  our  salvation  ?" 

"  One  more  question,  Mary.  Is  there  not  a  pas- 
sage in  Revelations  substantiating  the  doctrine  of 
intercession  ?  Father  Mazzolin  assured  me  the  tes- 
timony was  conclusive  in  favor  of  that  practice." 

"  The  passages  to  which  you  allude  are  these: 
1  And  another  angel  came  and  stood  at  the  altar, 
having  a  golden  censor ;  and  there  was  given  unto 
him  much  incense,  that  he  should  offer  it,  with  the 
prayers  of  all  saints,  upon  the  golden  altar  which 
was  before  the  throne.  Aud  the  smoke  of  the  in- 
cense which  came  with  the  prayers  of  the  saints 
ascended  up  before  God  out  of  the  angel's  hand.' 
No  word  of  intercession  occurs  here;  and  are  we  not 
as  free  to  suppose  that  the  prayers  so  offered  were 
in  their  own  behalf  as  that  of  their  friends  ?  Had  it 
been  as  the  Padre  tells  you,  would  not  St.  John  have 
said  intercession  or  prayers  in  behalf  of  others  ?" 

"  Mary,  can  you  have  mistaken  the  passage  ?  This 
cannot  be  his  boasted  testimony." 

"  I  know  that  these  two  verses  are  highly  prized 
by  Papists,  as  establishing  the  doctrine  in  question; 
yet  I  cannot  see  them  in  that  light — can  you  ?" 

"  No,  no;  and  if  these  are  the  strongest  arguments 
they  can  adduce  in  the  defense  of  invocation,  I  re- 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  123 

ject  it  as  a  remnant  of  the  dark  ages,  during  which 
period  it  certainly  crept  into  the  church." 

"  If  you  do  this,  Florry,  you  cause  the  whole  fabric 
to  totter,  for  on  this  doctrine,  as  a  foundation,  rests 
the  arch,  of  which  confession  is  the  keystone." 

44  4  Confess  ye  your  sins,  one  to  another,'  is  very 
strong  in  our  favor,  Mary  ?" 

44  Florry,  we  are  searching  for  truth,  and  let  us  in 
all  humility  and  candor  investigate  this  particularly 
important  point.  It  seems  to  me  that  St.  James's 
meaning  is  this — when  we  have  offended  or  harmed 
our  fellow- men  or  brethren,  we  should  make  all 
the  amends  in  our  power;  confess  our  faults  unto 
them ;  implore  their  pardon,  and  abstain  from  offen- 
sive conduct  in  future.  Do  you  not  think  that  if  he 
intended  us  to  interpret  it  differently,  he  would  have 
said — '  Confess  your  faults  unto  your  priest,  and  he 
will  give  you  absolution.'  Setting  aside  all  bias,  do 
you  not  think  this  reasonable;  the  more  so,  when  we 
call  to  mind  those  words  of  our  Saviour  in  his  ser- 
mon on  the  mount :  '  Therefore,  if  thou  bring  thy 
gift  to  the  altar,  and  there  rememberest  that  thy 
brother  hath  aught  against  thee,  leave  there  thy  gift 
before  the  altar,  and  go  thy  way;  first  be  reconciled 
to  thy  brother,  and  then  come  and  offer  thy  gift.' 
If  our  Lord  had  intended  the  ordinance  of  confes- 
sion, would  he  not  have  said  on  this  occasion. 4  First 
confess  thy  sins  unto  thy  priest,  and  when  he  has 
absolved  thee,  then  come  with  clean  hands  and  offer 
thy  gift.'  Mark  the  difference,  and  ask  your  own 

Vol.  6  F— Evans 


124  INEZ  ;   A  TALE   OF  THE   ALAMO. 

heart  if  there  is  any  encouragement  here  for  confes- 
sing to  your  Padre  ?" 

"  If  this  passage  of  James  were  all  we  could  adduce 
in  favor  of  confession,  I  should  think  with  you,  Mary; 
yet  it  is  not  so.  When  about  to  dismiss  his  Apostles 
on  their  errands  of  mercy,  Christ  said  to  them — 
'  Peace  be  with  you ;  as  my  Father  hath  sent  me, 
even  so  I  send  you :'  and  when  he  had  breathed  upon 
them,  he  said  unto  them — '  Receive  ye  the  Holy 
Ghost;  whosesoever  sins  ye  remit,  they  are  remitted 
unto  them,  and  whosesoever  sins  ye  retain,  they  are 
retained.'  Now  Mary,  do  you  not  plainly  perceive 
that  the  power  of  forgiving  sin  was  conferred  upon 
the  Apostles  ?" 

"  Most  assuredly  I  do;  and  avow  my  belief  that 
they  were  enabled  to  forgive  sin,  and  at  the  same 
time  other  miraculous  powers  were  conferred  on  the 
'  Twelve.'  '  Then  he  called  his  twelve  disciples 
together,  and  gave  them  power  and  authority  over 
all  devils,  and  to  cure  diseases.'  We  know  that  they 
cast  out  devils,  restored  the  blind,  and  raised  the 
dead.  Power  to  forgive  sin  was  one  among  many 
wonderful  gifts  conferred  upon  them.  Yet  you  do 
not  believe  that  the  power  of  raising  the  dead  was 
transmitted  to  posterity.  How,  then,  can  you  say 
the  gift  of  absolution  was  ?" 

"  But,  Mary,  Christ  says  in  another  place — *  Thou 
art  Peter:  and  upon  this  rock  I  will  build  my  church, 
and  the  gates  of  Hell  shall  not  prevail  against  it. 
And  I  will  give  unto  thee  the  keys  of  the  kingdom 
of  heaven,  and  whatsoever  thou  shalt  bind  on  earth 


INEZ  J   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  HJ 

shall  be  bound  in  heaven,  and  whatsoever  thou  shalt 
loose  on  earth  shall  be  loosed  in  heaven.'  " 

"  I  perfectly  agree  with  you,  Florry,  in  believing 
that  St.  Peter  had  miraculous  powers  bestowed  on 
him  by  our  Saviour;  but  it  seems  absurd  to  suppose 
that  those  powers  were  perpetuated  in  the  ministers 
of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church.  Our  Saviour  said, 
what  '  Peter  loosed,  should  be  loosed  in  heaven,'  and 
not  what  Peter's  successors  loosed  should  be  observed 
and  loosed  in  heaven.  We  should  not  judge  of 
Christ's  views  by  isolated  passages,  but  rather  from 
all  his  teachings;  for  if  we  did,  what  would  you  say 
to  the  verse  just  below  those  already  quoted,  *  And 
he  said  unto  Peter,  get  thee  behind  me  Satan,  thon 
art  an  offense  unto  me,  for  thou  savorest  not  the 
things  which  be  of  God,  but  those  that  be  of  men.' 
But  this  is  wandering  from  the  subject.  In  St 
Augustine's  Confessions,  though  I  admit  somewhat 
abridged,  I  find  nothing  relating  to  confessing  to 
priests.  This  passage  alone  appears:  '  O  Lord, 
thou  knowest! — have  I  not  confessed  my  sins  to 
thee  ?  and  hast  thou  not  pardoned  the  iniquity  of  my 
heart  ?'  Speaking  of  a  sudden  illness  during  his  boy- 
hood, he  says  he  eagerly  desired  baptism,  fearing  to 
die,  and  his  mother  was  about  to  comply  with  his 
request,  when  he  quickly  recovered.  Now  had  he 
considered  confession  necessary,  would  he  not  have 
urged  it  upon  all  who  read  his  Confessions,  which 
you  will  mark,  Florry,  were  not  made  to  a  priest, 
but  obviously  to  God  himself." 


126  INEZ  ;   A  TALE   OF  THE   ALAMO. 

There  followed  a  long  pause,  while  Florence  dropt 
her  face  in  her  hands,  and  sighed  heavily. 

"  Florry,  it  is  very  late;  our  candle  has  burnt  low 
— see,  it  is  flickering  in  the  socket;  we  have  not 
heeded  the  lapse  of  time."  She  rose  and  replaced 
the  books  she  had  been  consulting. 

"  Mary,  Mary !  why  have  you  shaken  my  faith  ?  I 
had  thought  to  find  comfort  in  future,  but  you  have 
torn  my  hope  from  me,  and  peace  flies  with  the 
foundations  which  you  have  removed!" 

"  Florry,  you  have  been  blinded,  deceived.  They 
have  cried  unto  you,  Peace !  peace !  when  there  was 
no  peace.  But  oh!  there  is  a  source  of  rest  and 
strength,  and  comfort,  which  is  to  be  attained  not  by 
confession,  or  the  intercession  of  the  dead  or  living, 
but  by  repentance  for  the  past,  and  an  active,  trust- 
ing faith  in  the  meditation  of  our  blessed  Lord  Jesus 
Christ." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

"The  purple  clouds 
Are  putting  on  their  gold  and  violet, 
To  look  the  meeter  for  the  sun's  bright  coming. 
How  hallowed  is  the  hour  of  morning  !     Meet — 
Ay!  beautifully  meet — for  the  pure  prayer." 

Willis. 

MORN  broke  in  the  East ;  or,  in  the  beautiful  lan- 
guage of  the  Son  of  Fingal,  "  Sol's  yellow  hair 
streamed  on  the  Eastern  gale."  Awakened  by  the 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  I2/ 

first  chirping  of  the  feathered  tribe,  Florence  r»se  as 
the  gray  morning  light  stole  into  her  chamber,  and 
seating  herself  at  the  window,  looked  ont  on  the 
town  before  her.  Quiet  reigned  as  yet,  broken  only 
by  the  nrarmnring  and  gargling  of  the  river,  which 
rolled  swiftly  on,  just  below  their  little  gate.  How 
delightful  to  her  seemed 

"  The  cool,  the  fragrant,  and  the  silent  hour 
To  meditation  due." 

Calmly  she  now  weighed  the  conversation  of  the  pre- 
ceding night,  and  engrossed  in  earnest  thought,  sat 
gazing  out  till  the  Orient  shone  resplendent,  and  an 
October  sun  poured  his  rays  gloriously  around  her. 
Then  she  knelt,  and  prayed  as  she  had  never  done 
before.  She  sought  the  "  pure  fountain  of  light," 
and  implored  strength  and  guidance  in  her  search 
after  truth.  Rising,  her  glance  fell  on  her  sleeping 
cousin,  and  she  was  struck  with  the  change  which 
within  the  last  month  had  taken  place  in  her  appear- 
ance. Approaching  the  bed,  she  lifted  the  masses 
of  chestnut  hair  that  clung  to  the  damp  brow.  As 
she  looked  on  the  pure,  pale  face,  there  came  a  gush 
of  tenderness  into  her  soul,  and  bending,  she  im- 
printed a  long,  warm  kiss.  Mary  stirred,  and  opened 
her  eyes. 

"  Ah,  Florry,  you  are  up  earlier  than  usual."  She 
dosed  them  again,  murmuring  slowly,  "  I  feel  as 
though  I  had  no  strength  remaining;  I  can  scarcely 
lift  my  head." 


128  INEZ  ;   A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO. 

"  Sleep,  Mary,  if  you  can.  I  will  shut  out  the 
light,  and  call  you  again  after  a  wh:le." 

"  No,  Florry,  I  must  not  give  way  to  such  feefings; 
indeed  they  are  getting  quite  too  common  of  late ;  I 
can't  think  what  makes  me  so  weak  and  feverish." 

An  hour  later,  as  they  stood  together  at  the  door 
of  their  little  dining-room,  a  body  of  Mexican  cavalry 
dashed  furiously  past  their  gate.  The  cousins  looked 
full  at  each  other.  Then  Florence  said  in  a  low, 
calm  tone:  "  You  are  right,  Mary;  we  will  go  from 
this  place;  I  feel  now  that  it  is  for  the  best."  She 
averted  her  face;  but  Mary  saw  an  expression  of 
keen  agony  resting  there.  "  Florry,  let  us  consult 
Mrs.  Carlton.  She  will  advise  us  what  would  be 
best  to  do  in  this  emergency." 

"  Go  and  see  her  yourself;  I  can  not.  Whatever 
you  decide  upon  I  will  agree  to.  Oh !  Mary,  how 
desolate  and  unprotected  we  are." 

"  No,  not  while  there  is  an  Almighty  One  to  watch 
over  us.  But,  Florry,  I  am  much  troubled  about 
Aunt  Lizzy.  I  mentioned  our  wish  to  leave  here,  and 
she  opposed  it  strenuously,  on  the  grounds  that  the 
Padre  had  promised  his  protection.  Now  what  are 
we  to  do  ?" 

"  Go  to  Mrs.  Carlton's,  Mary,  and  I  will  convince 
aunt  that  it  is  best  we  should  remove  from  here 
immediately.  You  need  apprehend  no  difficulty  on 
her  part.  As  you  return  from  Mrs.  Carlton's,  meet 
me  in  the  church-yard." 

"  Florry,  do  not  go  till  I  come  home;  or,  if  you 
prefer  it,  let  us  go  there  at  once." 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE   OF  THE   ALAMO.  129 

"  No,  Mary,  I  wish  to  be  there  alone." 

"  But  I  am  afraid  it  is  not  quite  safe  for  you  to 
venture  out  so  far  from  home." 

"  I  fear  nothing:  who  would  harm  a  daughter 
beside  her  father's  grave  ?" 

Mary  sighed  heavily,  but  offered  no  further 
opposition.  Her  walk  to  Mrs.  Carlton's  was  a  sad 
one,  for  her  heart  clung  to  the  scenes  she  had 
learned  to  love  so  well,  and  the  prospect  of  departure, 
and  the  uncertainty  of  the  futufe,  weighed  heavily 
on  her  heart,  and  made  her  step  unwontedly  slow. 
She  found  her  friend  alone,  and  much  depressed. 
Mrs.  Carlton  clasped  her  tenderly  in  her  arms,  while 
the  tears  rolled  silently  down  her  cheeks. 

"  I  hope  nothing  has  happened  to  distress  you  ?" 
said  Mary,  anxiously. 

"  You  are  the  very  one  I  wished  to  see.  Mr.  Carl- 
ton  said,  this  morning,  that  he  was  unwilling  for  me 
to  remain  here  any  longer,  as  our  troops  are  march- 
ing to  attack  the  Alamo.  He  says  he  will  take  us  to 
Washington,  and  I  could  not  bear  the  idea  of  leav- 
ing you  here." 

"  I  have  come  to  consult  you  on  this  subject ;  for 
some  of  my  Mexican  friends  have  advised  us  to 
leave  San  Antonio ;  and  not  knowing  where  or  how 
to  go,  concluded  to  come  and  see  you.  But  Wash- 
ington is  far,  very  far  from  here.  How  will  we  ever 
reach  it  in  these  unsettled  times  ?" 

"  Mr.  Carlton  and  Frank  have  gone  to  make  all 
necessary  preparation  for  our  immediate  departure. 
We  will  have  two  tents,  and  carry  such  cooking 


I3O  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

utensils  and  provisions  as  are  needful  for  a  tedious 
journey:  one  wagon  is  all  we  hope  to  obtain  for  con- 
veying these.  I  suppose  we  shall  all  ride  horse- 
back; for  you  know  there  is  not  a  carriage  in  the 
town.  Frank  does  not  wish  us  to  leave  this  place, 
for  he  suggested  your  coming  to  remain  with  us  till 
these  stormy  times  were  over.  But  this  is  not  a 
suitable  home  for  you.  Surely  your  cousin  and  aunt 
will  consent  to  accompany  us  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  think  so;  for  Florry  left  it  entirely  with 
me,  and  certainly  we  should  go  now." 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  you  say  so,  Mary;  not 
only  upon  your  own  account,  but  also  for  Frank. 
He  will  consider  himself  bound  to  accompany  you ; 
for  he  promised  your  dying  uncle  to  watch  over  you 
both  with  a  brother's  care,  and  otherwise  he  could 
not  be  induced  to  leave  San  Antonio  at  this  crisis. 
He  seems  completely  rapt  in  the  issue  of  the  con- 
test ;  and  would  you  believe  it,  Mary,  he  is  anxious 
to  enlist;  but  my  entreaties  have  as  yet  prevented 
him." 

"  Dear  Mrs.  Carlton,  there  is  no  obligation  resting 
on  him  to  go  with  us.  He  has  been  very  kind  and 
careful,  and  though  deeply  grateful,  we  could  not 
consent  to  his  leaving  against  his  own  inclinations. 
Oh,  no!  we  could  not  allow  this.  Yet  should  he  re- 
main, what  may  be  the  result  ?  Oh !  Mrs.  Carlton, 
this  is  terrible." 

Mary's  cheek  was  very  pale,  and  her  lips  quivered 
convulsively,  while  the  small  hands  clasped  each 
ether  tightly. 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  13! 

"  Mary,  for  my  sake,  use  your  influence  with  him 
in  favor  of  going  to  Washington.  I  can't  go  in 
peace,  and  feel  that  he  is  here  exposed  to  such 
imminent  danger,  for  when  I  am  gone,  what  will 
restrain  him  ?  Mary,  Mary!  do  not  deter  him, if  he 
feels  it  incumbent  on  him  to  see  you  to  a  place  of 
safety." 

"  Mrs.  Carlton,  you  can  appreciate  the  peculiar 
position  in  which  I  am  placed.  Florry  and  I  would 
shrink  from  drawing  him  away,  in  opposition  to  his 
wishes,  particularly  when  there  is  no  danger  attend- 
ant on  our  traveling ;  for  with  you  and  Mr.  Carlton 
we  would  feel  no  apprehension ;  and  even  if  we  did, 
we  could  not  consent  to  such  a  sacrifice  on  his  part. 
Yet  I  sympathize  with  you,  most  sincerely,  and  will 
willingly  do  all  that  in  propriety  I  can  to  alleviate 
your  sorrow ;  but  knowing  his  sentiments,  how  could 
I  advise,  or  even  acquiesce  in  his  going  ?" 

"  My  pure-hearted  girl,  forgive  a  request  made  so 
thoughtlessly.  I  had  not  considered,  as  I  should 
have  done ;  yet  you  can  appreciate  the  anxious  feel- 
ings which  dictated  it."  As  she  spoke,  Mrs.  Carlton 
clasped  her  friend  to  her  heart,  and  wept  on  her 
shoulder.  No  tear  dimmed  Mary's  eye;  yet  that  she 
suffered,  none  who  looked  on  her  pale  brow  and 
writhing  lips  could  doubt.  As  she  raised  her  head 
to  reply,  Dr.  Bryant  entered,  and  started  visibly  on 
seeing  her.  Mrs.  Carlton  endeavored  to  regain  her 
composure :  and  with  a  slightly  faltering  voice,  asked 
how  he  succeeded  in  procuring  horses  ? 

"  Better  than  I  had  hoped,"  was  the  rejoinder;  and 


132  INEZ  J  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

he  held  out  his  hand  to  Mary.  She  gave  him  hers, 
now  cold  as  ice.  He  held  it  a  moment  and  pressed 
it  gently,  saying:  "  You  see  my  sister  is  going  to  run 
away  on  the  first  intimation  of  danger.  I  hope  she 
has  not  infected  you  with  her  fears;  though  to  judge 
from  your  looks  I  should  almost  predict  a  stampede 
in  another  direction." 

"  Indeed,  you  are  quite  right.  Florry  and  I  are 
going  with  her;  though  we  had  decided  on  leaving 
before  we  knew  she  intended  doing  so." 

"  Ah !  you  did  not  seem  to  apprehend  any  imme- 
diate danger  when  we  conversed  on  this  subject  a 
few  days  since.  What  has  changed  your  views  ?" 

"  I  have  been  warned  not  to  risk  the  dangers  at- 
tendant on  the  approaching  conflict  by  a  Mexican 
friend  vhose  attachment  I  have  every  reason  to  be- 
lieve i.  sincere;  and  besides,  it  needed  but  little  to 
augment  my  fears ;  and  Florry  and  I  concluded,  if 
practicable,  to  remove  to  a  place  of  greater  safety." 

"  Can  you  be  ready  within  two  days,  think  you, 
Miss  Mary  ?  for,  if  we  leave  at  all,  it  is  advisable  that 
we  do  so  immediately." 

"  Oh,  yes!  I  know  that  we  can  be  ready  by  that 
time." 

"  Let  me  see — how  many  additional  horses  shall 
KG  need  ?  Yourself,  your  cousin,  and  aunt,  and  my- 
feelf." 

Mary  looked  eagerly  at  Mrs.  Carlton ;  but  she  had 
averted  her  head;  and  for  a  moment  a  terrible 
struggle  within  kept  the  gentle  girl  silent. 

"  Dr.  Bryant,  I  know  you  do  not  wish  to  leave  here 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  133 

at  this  juncture,  intensely  interested  as  you  are  in 
the  event,  and  I  fear  you  are  sacrificing  your  own 
wishes  for  our  benefit.  Let  me  beg  you  to  consult 
your  inclinations,  and  do  not  feel  it  in  the  least  in- 
cumbent on  you  to  attend  us,  particularly  when  we  are 
in  the  kind  care  of  Mr.  Carlton ;  and  you  have  already 
done  so  much  toward  contributing  to  our  comfort." 

"  Thank  you  for  your  consideration.  Neverthe- 
less, I  shall  not  rest  satisfied  till  I  place  you  in  safety 
on  the  banks  of  the  Brazos.  One  of  my  greatest 
pleasures  has  been  to  render  you  service,  and  you 
would  not  abridge  them,  I  hope,  by  refusing  my 
company  on  your  journey?" 

Mary's  eyes  were  fixed  earnestly  on  his  face  while 
he  spoke,  and  though  there  was  no  change  in  his 
kind,  gentle  tone,  there  came  an  undefinable  expres- 
sion over  his  noble  countenance — an  expression  in 
which  coldness  and  sorrow  predominated.  She 
could  not  understand  him;  yet  a  shudder  crept 
through  her  frame  and  a  sensation  of  acute  pain 
stole  into  her  heart.  She  felt  as  though  a  barrier 
had  suddenly  risen  between  them,  yet  could  not 
analyze  the  cause. 

"  Your  servants  will  take  all  possible  care  of  the 
house  and  furniture  during  your  absence,  which,  I 
hope,  will  be  but  temporary.  They  will  not  be  mo- 
lested; and  I  am  afraid  we  could  not  conveniently 
carry  two  additional  persons.  What  think  you  of 
this  arrangement?" 

"  I  think  with  you,  that  under  existing  circum- 
stances the  servants  could  not  well  accompany  us; 


134  INEZ  ;   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

and  though  they  will  incur  no  danger,  I  regret  the 
necessity  of  leaving  them,  particularly  should  they 
object." 

" 1  hope  you  will  find  no  difficulty  in  arranging 
everything  to  your  entire  satisfaction  previous  to 
our  departure.  You  and  my  sister  must  consult  as 
to  all  minor  points,  and  I  must  look  to  our  prepara- 
tions. My  respects  to  your  cousin.  I  will  see.  you 
again  to-morrow;"  and  bidding  her  good  morning, 
he  turned  away. 

"  Oh,  such  a  weight  is  lifted  from  my  heart !"  ex- 
claimed Mrs.  Carlton.  "  I  can  now  exert  myself  as 
I  am  called  on  to  do." 

"  Florry  will  be  waiting  for  me,  and  we  have  much 
to  do  at  home;  so  good- by,"  and  Mary  lifted  her 
pale  face  for  a  farewell  kiss. 

Mrs.  Carlton  afEectionately  embraced  her,  and 
bidding  her  "  make  all  speed,"  they  parted 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

"  There  is  a  soul  just  delivered  from  purgatory  J  It  was 
found  to  be  a  frog  dressed  in  red  flannel." — Kirwan. 

FLORENCE  having  succeeded,  as  she  imagined,  in 
convincing  her  aunt  that  it  was  advisable  to  remove 
from  San  Antonio,  slowly  proceeded  to  the  church- 
yard, little  dreaming  that  the  door  had  scarce  closed 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  135 

behind  her,  ere  Aunt  Lizzy,  with  swift  steps,  directed 
her  way  to  the  house  of  the  Padre.  He  was  writing, 
but  gave  his  attention,  and  heard,  with  ill-disguised 
chagrin,  that  Florence  distrusted  his  promised  pro- 
tection. 

"  Does  she  doubt  in  matters  of  faith,  think  you?" 
he  eagerly  inquired. 

"  Indeed,  Padre,  I  can  not  say.  All  I  know  is, 
that  she  and  Mary  sat  till  midnight,  reading  and 
talking,  and  she  has  not  seemed  like  herself  since." 

"  Where  shall  I  find  Florence?"  said  he,  taking  his 
hat. 

"  In  the  church-yard,  I  think,  beside  her  father's 
grave." 

"  Say  nothing  to  her,  but  apparently  acquiesce  in 
her  plans;  and,  above  all,  do  not  let  her  dream  that 
you  have  told  me  these  things." 

Ah,  Florence !  who  may  presume  to  analyze  the 
anguish  of  your  tortured  heart,  as  you  throw  your- 
self in  such  abandonment  of  grief  on  the  tomb  of 
your  lost  parent?  The  luxuriant  grass,  swaying  to 
and  fro  in  the  chin  October  blast,  well-nigh  con- 
cealed the  bent  and  drooping  form  as  she  knelt  and 
laid  her  head  on  the  cold  granite. 

"  My  father !  oh,  my  father !"  and  tears,  which 
she  had  not  shed  before,  fell  fast,  and  somewhat 
eased  the  desolate,  aching  heart.  Florence  had 
not  wept  before  in  many  years;  and  now  that  the 
fountain  was  unsealed,  she  strove  not  to  repress  the 
tears  which  seemed  to  lift  and  bear  away  the  heavy 
weight  which  had  so  long  crushed  her  spirits. 


136  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

What  a  blessing  it  is  to  be  able  to  weep;  and 
happy  are  they  who  can  readily  give  vent  to  tears, 
and  thus  exhaust  their  grief !  Such  can  never  realize 
the  intensity  of  anguish  which  other  natures  suffer 
— natures  to  whom  this  great  relief  is  denied,  and 
who  must  keep  the  withering,  scorching  agony  pent 
up  within  the  secret  chambers  of  their  desolate, 
aching  hearts.  Sobs  and  tears  are  not  for  these. 
No,  no;  alone  and  in  darkness  they  must  wrestle 
with  their  grief,  crush  it  down  into  their  inmost 
soul,  and  with  a  calm  exterior  go  forth  to  meet  the 
world.  But  ah !  the  flitting,  wintry  smile,  the  short, 
constrained  laugh,  the  pale  brow  marked  with  lines 
of  mental  anguish,  will  ofttimes  tell  of  the  smoulder- 
ing ruin.  .  .  . 

"  My  daughter,  God  has  appointed  me  in  place  of 
the  parent  he  has  taken  hence;  turn  to  me,  and  our 
most  holy  church,  and  you  will  find  comfort  such  as 
naught  else  can  afford." 

Florence  sprang  to  her  feet,  and  shuddered  at  the 
sound  of  his  low,  soft  voice.  The  Padre  marked  the 
shudder,  and  the  uneasy  look  which  accompanied  it : 
"  Padre,  I  have  confessed,  and  I  have  prayed  to  al- 
most every  saint  in  the  Calendar,  and  I  have  had 
your  prayers  in  addition  to  my  own;  yet  I  find  no 
comfort.  No  joy  has  stolen  to  my  heart  as  you 
promised  it  inevitably  would." 

"  My  daughter,  if  peace  has  not  descended  on 
thy  spirit,  I  fear  you  have  not  been  devout.  Tell 
me  truly,  if  you  have  not  doubted  in  matters  of  faith, 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO.  137 

for  our  most  holy  Mother  ever  grants  the  prayers  of 
her  faithful  and  loving  children  ?" 

"  I  have  searched  the  Bible,  and  I  nowhere  find 
authority  for  invoking  saints  or  the  Virgin." 

"  I  can  convince  you,  without  doubt,  that  there  is 
such  authority — nay,  command." 

"  Tis  useless,  you  may  save  yourself  the  trouble ; 
for  my  mind  is  clearly  made  up  that  we  have  not 
even  the  sanction  of  the  Fathers." 

"  Holy  Mary,  pardon  her  unbelief,  and  send  down 
light  into  her  darkened  soul!" 

Florence  fixed  her  eyes  full  upon  him,  and  replied 
— "  Christ  expressly  declares '  I  am  the  light,  I  am 
the  life.' " 

"  Daughter,  your  heretic  cousin  has  done  you  a 
great  injury.  May  God  protect  you,  and  forgive  her 
blasphemy." 

"  She  needs  no  forgiveness,  for  she  is  pure  in  heart 
before  God  and  truthful  in  all  things." 

The  swarthy  cheek  of  the  Italian  flushed — "  Flor- 
ence, you  and  your  aunt  must  come  and  stay  at  my 
house  till  it  is  safe  here;  and  I  doubt  not,  when  you 
are  at  leisure  to  hear  me,  you  will  duly  repent  your 
hasty  speeches.  I  shall  pray  God  and  our  Lady  to 
give  you  a  more  trusting,  believing  heart,  and  inter- 
cede with  the  blessed  saints  for  your  entire  conver- 
sion." 

"Not  so,  Father  Mazzolin;  we  shall  leave  this 
place  in  a  very  few  days,  and  I  have  come  to  bid 
adieu  to  the  grave  of  my  father;  leave  me,  for  I  wish 
to  be  alone  and  in  peace." 


138  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

"  Do  you  doubt  my  will  or  ability  to  protect  you, 
my  daughter  ?  Beneath  my  roof  no  danger  can 
assail." 

"  We  have  fully  decided  to  go  from  here,  and  fur- 
ther reasoning  or  entreaty  would  be  vain;  accept, 
however,  my  thanks  for  your  proffered  kindness." 

"  Girl,  you  have  gone  too  far !  Hear  me  while  I 
am  placable,  for  I  tell  you  now,  without  my  consent 
you  can  not — shall  not  leave  here." 

"  You  have  neither  right  nor  power  to  detain  me." 

"  Have  I  not  ?  I  swear,  if  you  do  not  hear  and 
abide  by  what  I  say,  your  father's  soul  will  remain 
forever  in  purgatory  where  it  justly  belongs." 

"  How  dare  you  make  so  miserable  a  threat  ?" 
said  the  calm,  clear  voice  of  Mary,  who  had  ap- 
proached unobserved. 

"  Cursed  believer  in  a  cursed  creed,  what  do  you 
here.  Begone,  or  dread  the  vengeance  I  shall  surely 
inflict  on  so  blasphemous  and  damnable  a  heretic !" 

Winding  her  arm  tightly  about  Florence's  waist, 
she  replied — "  'Vengeance  is  mine,  saith  the  Lord. 
I  will  repay;'  and  though  I  have  never  injured  you, 
Padre — even  if  I  had  it  ill  becomes  a  consecrated 
priest  to  utter  such  language,  or  so  madly  to  give 
vent  to  passion." 

"  Silence!"  thundered  the  Padre,  livid  with  rage; 
"  I  will  compass  heaven  and  earth  rather  than  you 
shall  escape  me." 

"  Come,  Florry,  this  is  no  place  for  us  now;  even 
the  church-yard  is  not  sacred.  Come  home." 

"  Florence,  dare  you  curse  your  own  father  ?"   The 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  139 

gill's  lips  quivered  but  no  sound  came  forth — she 
seemed  stunned. 

"  You  would  usurp  the  prerogatives  of  Jehovah, 
Father  Mazzolin;  but  your  threat  is  vain.  You  can 
not  bless  or  damn  my  uncle  at  will  How  dare  you, 
guilty  as  you  are,  hold  such  impious  language  ?" 

For  a  moment  he  quailed  before  the  calm,  unflinch- 
ing girl,  then  seizing  Florence's  arm,  hoarsely  ex- 
claimed :  "  One  more  chance  I  give  you.  Florence, 
I  am  your  brother — your  father,  my  father.  On  his 
death- bed  he  confessed  his  sins  and  discovered  his 
son." 

A  deep  groan  burst  from  Florence's  lips,  and  her 
slender  frame  quivered  like  a  reed  in  a  wintry  blast. 
The  Padre  laid  his  head  on  the  granite  slab  which 
covered  the  remains  of  Mr.  Hamilton,  and  con- 
tinued :  "  I  call  God  in  heaven  and  all  the  saints  to 
witness  the  truth  of  what  I  say,  and  if  I  prove  it  not 
may  I  sink  into  perdition.  When  your  father  was 
yet  young  he  made  the  tour  of  Europe.  Traveling 
in  Italy,  he  met  at  Florence  a  poor  but  beautiful 
girl;  and  she,  struck,  in  turn,  by  the  handsome  face 
of  the  stranger,  left  her  humble  home  and  listened 
to  the  voice  of  seduction.  He  remained  five  months 
at  Florence,  and  then  suddenly  left  Italy  for  his 
native  country  without  apprising  the  unfortunate 
woman  of  his  intentions.  Hatred  succeeded  to  love, 
and  she  vowed  vengeance.  That  woman  was  my 
mother;  and  when  ten  years  had  passed,  she  told 
me  my  parentage,  and  made  me  swear  on  the  altar 
of  her  patron  saint  that  I  would  fulfill  her  vow  of 


140  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

vengeance.  She  died  and  I  became  a  priest  of  Rome, 
and  in  time  was  sent  by  my  order  to  Mexico,  and 
thence  here  to  assist  my  aged  and  infirm  pre- 
decessor. I  had  in  my  possession  a  miniature  of  my 
father,  and  no  sooner  had  I  met  him  here  than  I 
recognized  the  base  being  who  had  deserted  my 
mother.  I  kept  my  peace;  but  ere  he  died  he  con- 
fessed that  one  sin — heavier  than  everything  beside — 
weighed  on  his  conscience.  In  the  agony  and  re- 
morse of  that  hour  my  mother  was  revenged.  I  told 
my  parentage,  and  he  discovered  his  child.  Feeling 
that  I  was  your  brother,  he  bade  you  remain  here, 
claim  my  protection,  and  follow  my  advice.  But, 
Florence,  hear  me — your  misery  touched  my  heart; 
a  kindred  feeling  for  you  made  me  desire  to  serve 
you;  but  I  swear  now  that  if  you  hear  not  my  voice, 
and  return  to  the  bosom  of  our  church,  your  father's 
soul  shall  linger  in  damnation,  and  my  vengeance 
shall  follow  you.  You  know  not  my  power,  and  woe 
to  you  if  you  defy  me!" 

Had  the  spectre-form  of  the  deceased,  leaving  the 
shadowy  band  of  the  spirit-world,  risen  on  the 
granite  slab  before  them,  the  two  girls  could  not 
have  been  more  startled.  Tightly  they  clung  one  to 
another,  their  eyes  riveted  on  the  face  of  the  Padre. 
There  was  a  long  pause;  then  Florence  lifted  her- 
self proudly  up,  and  cold  and  haughty  was  her  tone. 
"  It  is  not  for  me  to  deny  your  statement.  If  my 
father  sinned,  peace  to  his  memory,  and  may  God 
forgive  him.  One  so  sinful  and  malignant  as  your- 
self can  not  be  invested  with  divine  prerogatives 


INEZ  ;   A  TALE   OF  THE   ALAMO.  14! 

I  have  known  your  intentions  with  regard  to  myself 
since  the  hour  I  knelt  in  confession.  Iwas  destined 
for  a  convent,  and  I  tacitly  acquiesced  in  your  plans, 
hoping  that  so  secluded  from  the  world  I  should  be 
comparatively  happy ;  but  my  feelings  are  changed 
on  many  points,  and  any  further  interference  from 
you  will  be  received  with  the  scorn  it  merits.  No 
love  for  me  actuates  your  movements,  else  you  would 
have  spared  me  the  suffering  of  this  hour." 

"  You  defy  me,  then  ?" 

Florence  had  turned  away,  and  heeded  not  his 
question ;  but  Mary,  clasping  her  hands,  looked  ap- 
pealingly  in  his  face:  "  Oh,  Padre,  by  the  tie  which 
you  declare  exists  between  yourself  and  Florry — for 
the  sake  of  your  lost  parent — do  not  put  your  threat 
in  execution.  Spare  an  unprotected  orphan.  You 
will  not  harm  your  sister !" 

"  Know  you  not,  girl,  that  when  a  Jesuit  priest 
takes  the  oath  of  his  order,  he  tears  his  heart  from 
his  breast  and  lays  it  at  the  feet  of  his  superior  ? 
Appeal  not  to  ties  of  relationship:  we  repudiate 
them,  and  pity  is  unknown  among  us." 

With  a  shudder  Mary  joined  her  cousin,  and  rapidly 
and  in  perfect  silence  they  retraced  their  steps  home- 
ward. When  they  reached  their  gate,  Mary  would 
have  opened  it,  but  her  cousin,  taking  her  hand,  led 
the  way  to  their  old  seat  beside  the  river. 

Florence  seated  herself  as  near  the  water  as  possi- 
ble, and  then  tightly  clasping  the  hand  she  held, 
asked  in  a  voice  of  suppressed  emotion :  "  Tell  me, 
Mary,  is  there  a  purgatory  ?" 


142  INEZ  ;   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

"  No,  Florry;  I  think  there  is  less  foundation  for 
that  doctrine  than  any  advanced  by  your  church." 

"  Mary,  you  speak  truth,  and  all  that  you  say  I 
can  implicitly  believe.  Tell  me  what  grounds  sup- 
port the  theory  ?" 

"  You  remember  the  words  of  our  Saviour, '  All 
sin  shall  be  forgiven,  save  blasphemy  of  the  Holy 
Ghost ;  that  shall  not  be  forgiven,  either  in  this 
world  or  the  next.'  Now  Papists  argue  in  this  way: 
Then  other  sins  can  be  forgiven  in  another  world; 
there  is  no  sin  in  heaven,  in  hell  no  forgiveness,  con- 
sequently, there  must  exist  a  middle  place,  or,  in 
other  words,  a  purgatory.  Florry,  you  smile,  yet  I 
assure  you  I  have  seen  this  advanced  as  unanswera- 
ble. In  the  book  of  Maccabees  is  a  very  remarkable 
passage  authorizing  prayers  for  the  dead,  and  on 
this  passage  they  build  their  theory  and  sanction 
their  practice.  Yet  you  know  full  well  it  is  one  of 
the  Apocryphal  books  rejected  by  the  Jews,  because 
not  originally  written  in  their  language.  It  was  never 
quoted  by  our  Saviour,  nor  even  received  as  inspired 
by  your  own  church  till  the  Council  of  Trent,  when 
it  was  admitted  to  substantiate  the  doctrine  of  pur- 
gatory, and  sanction  prayers  for  the  dead.  I  admit 
that  on  this  point  St.  Augustine's  practice  was  in 
favor  of  it ;  though  it  was  only  near  the  close  of  his 
long  life  that  he  speaks  of  the  soul  of  his  mother. 
Yet  already  history  informs  us  that  the  practice 
of  praying  for  the  dead  was  gaining  ground  in  the 
church,  along  with  image  worship.  St.  Cyprian, 
who  lived  long  before  him,  and  during  a  purer  state 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO.  143 

of  the  church,  leaves  no  doubt  on  our  minds  as  to 
his  sentiments  on  that  subject ;  his  words  are  these : 
'  When  ye  depart  hence,  there  will  be  no  room  for  re- 
pentance— no  method  of  being  reconciled  to  God. 
Here  eternal  life  is  either  lost  or  won.  Here,  by  the 
worship  of  God,  and  the  fruit  of  faith,  provision  is 
made  for  eternal  salvation.  And  let  no  man  be  re- 
tarded, either  by  his  sins  or  years,  from  coming  to 
obtain  it.  No  repentance  is  too  late  while  a  man 
remains  in  this  world.'  Our  Saviour  nowhere  gives 
any  encouragement  of  such  a  doctrine.  On  the 
contrary,  he  said  to  the  dying  thief:  '  This  day  shalt 
thou  be  with  me  in  Paradise.'  I  know  of  no  other 
argument  which  Papists  advance  in  favor  of  their 
darling  theory,  save  the  practice  of  the  latter  Fathers 
of  their  church." 

"  Mary,  I  can  not  believe  this  doctrine,  without 
further  proof  of  Divine  sanction." 

"  Indeed,  Florry,  I  know  of  no  other  reason  in  its 
favor,  and  have  long  supposed  it  a  system  of  extor- 
tion in  connection  with  indulgences,  now  used  only 
as  a  means  of  gain  by  the  dissolute  clergy  of  the 
Romish  faith.  I  need  scarcely  say,  that  the  abuse 
of  this  latter  doctrine  drove  Luther  to  reformation. 
It  is  a  well-known  fact,  that  in  the  i6th  century, 
Tetzel,  a  Dominican  monk  high  in  his  order,  drove 
through  Germany  in  a  wagon,  containing  two  boxes, 
one  holding  indulgences,  the  other  the  money  re- 
ceived for  them.  You  will  smile,  Florry,  when  I 
repeat  a  translation  of  the  German  lines  written  on 
the  outside  of  the  letter-box: 


144  INEZ ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

" '  When  in  this  chest  the  money  rings, 
The  soul  straight  up  to  heaven  springs.' 

Yet  the  boldness  and  audacity  of  his  general  lan- 
guage was  quite  in  accordance.  '  Indulgences,'  said 
he, '  are  the  most  precious  of  God's  gifts.  I  would 
not  exchange  my  privileges  for  those  of  St.  Peter  in 
heaven;  for  I  have  saved  more  souls  with  my  in- 
dulgences than  he  with  all  his  sermons.  There  is 
no  sin  so  great  that  the  indulgence  will  not  remit  it. 
Even  repentance  is  not  necessary.  Indulgences 
save  the  dead;  for  the  very  moment  the  money 
chinks  against  the  bottom  of  this  chest,  the  soul 
escapes  from  purgrtory,  and  flies  to  heaven.' 

"  Yet  this  inquisitor  was  high  in  favor  with  Pope 
Leo  X.  You  will  say,  Florry,  that  the  abuse  of  a 
doctrine  should  be  no  test  of  its  soundness ;  and  I 
admit  that  had  he  received  the  punishment  he  so 
richly  merited  it  would  not ;  yet  this  is  only  one  in- 
stance among  many.  We  have  conversed  on  the 
doctrines  of  the  Romish  faith  merely  as  theories, 
should  we  not  now  look  at  the  practice  ?  We  need 
not  go  very  far.  When  Aunt  Fanny  expressed  sur- 
prise on  seeing  our  Mexican  shepherd  eat  meat  last 
Friday,  did  he  not  reply  in  extenuation, '  I  have  paid 
the  priest  and  can  eat  meat  ?'  Now  if  it  was  neces- 
sary tor  him  to  abstain  previously,  conld  the  small 
sum  paid  to  the  Padre  exempt  him  from  the  duty  ? 
Again  we  see  the  working  of  the  system :  was  not 
Herrara  scrupulously  exact  on  the  same  point  ?  yet 
he  rose  from  the  table  and  told  a  most  positive  lie. 
With  regard  to  indulgences,  there  is  not  a  Papi*  who 


INEZ  ;   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  14$ 

will  admit  that  they  are  a  license  to  sin  ?  The  voice 
of  history  declares  that  '  a  regular  scale  for  absolu- 
tion was  graded/  and  the  fact  is  authenticated  by  a 
recent  traveler,  who  asserts  that  in  the  chancel  of 
Santa  Croce,  at  Rome,  is  hung  a  catalogue  of  the  in- 
dulgences granted  to  all  who  worship  in  that  church. 
Yet  your  priests  will  tell  you  they  are  the  remission 
of  sins  already  committed.  Did  not  Herrara  say,  '  I 
have  paid  the  Padre  and  can  eat  meat  ?'  Now  I  ask 
you  if  this  is  not  a  license  to  commit  what  would 
otherwise  be  considered  a  heinous  offense  by  all  de- 
vout Papists  ?" 

"  Relying  implicitly  on  what  the  Padre  asserted, 
Mary,  I  have  never  investigated  these  subjects  as  I 
should  have  done,  before  giving  my  credence  and 
support ;  but  of  the  doctrine  in  question  I  can  hence- 
forth entertain  but  one  opinion — a  detestable  and 
famous  method  of  filling  the  papal  coffers ;  for  since 
you  have  led  me  to  think  on  this  subject,  I  clearly 
remember  that  a  large  portion  of  the  enormous  ex- 
pense incurred  by  the  building,  ornamenting,  and 
repairing  of  St.  Peter's,  was  defrayed  by  money  ob- 
tained through  the  sale  of  indulgences.  Oh,  Mary, 
how  could  I  have  been  so  deluded — allowed  myself 
to  be  so  deceived !"  She  took  from  her  pocket  the 
rosary  and  crucifix  which  had  been  given  to  her 
father,  and  threw  them  impatiently  into  the  river 
gurgling  at  her  feet. 

"  The  perfect  harmony  with  which  the  entire  sys- 
tem works  is  unparalleled  in  the  civil,  religious,  or 
political  annals  of  the  world.  A  complete  espionage 


146  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

is  exercised  in  papal  countries,  from  the  Adriatic  to 
the  Californian  gulf.  And  the  greater  portion  of 
this  is  accomplished  by  means  of  the  confessional. 
The  Superior  at  Rome  can  become,  at  pleasure,  as 
perfectly  conversant  with  your  domestic  arrange- 
ments, and  the  thousand  incidents  which  daily  occur, 
as  you  or  I,  who  are  cognizant  of  them.  To  what  is 
all  this  tending?  Ah,  Florry,  look  at  the,  blood- 
stained records  of  the  past.  The  voices  of  slaught- 
ered thousands,  borne  to  us  across  the  waste  of  cen- 
turies, bid  us  remember  the  Duke  of  Alva,  the  Al- 
bigensian  crusade,  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew, 
and  the  blazes  of  Smithfield.  Ignatius  Loyola! 
happy  would  it  have  been  for  millions  lost,  and  mil- 
lions yet  to  be,  hadst  thou  perished  at  the  siege  of 
Pampeluna.  Florry,  contrast  Italy  and  Germany, 
Spain  and  Scotland,  and  look  at  Portugal,  and  South 
America  and  Mexico,  and  oh,  look  at  this  benighted 
town!  A  fairer  spot  by  nature  the  face  of  earth 
cannot  boast;  yet  mark  the  sloth,  the  penury,  the 
degradation  of  its  people,  the  misery  that  prevails. 
And  why  ?  Because  they  languish  under  the  iron 
rule  of  the  papal  see — iron,  because  it  admits  of  no 
modification.  Entire  supremacy  over  both  body 
and  soul,  or  total  annihilation  of  their  power.  May 
the  time  speedily  come  when  they  shall  spurn  their 
oppressors,  and  trample  their  yoke  in  the  dust,  as 
their  transatlantic  brethren  will  ultimately  do.  Oh, 
Florry,  does  not  your  heart  yearn  toward  benighted 
Italy  ?  Italy,  once  so  beautiful  and  noble — once  the 
acknowledged  mistress  of  the  world,  as  she  sat  in 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  147 

royal  magnificence,  enthroned  on  her  seven  hills; 
now  a  miserable  waste,  divided  between  petty  sov- 
ereigns, and  a  by-word  for  guilt  and  degradation ! 
The  glorious  image  lies  a  ruin  at  our  feet !  for  the 
spirit  that  gave  beauty  and  strength,  and  shed  a 
halo  of  splendor  round  its  immortal  name,  has  fled 
afar,  perhaps  forever;  banished  by  the  perfidious 
system  of  Papacy — that  sworn  foe  to  liberty,  ecclesi- 
astical or  political. 

"  How  incomprehensible  the  apathy  with  which 
the  English  regard  the  promulgation  of  Puseyism  in 
their  church !  It  is  stealing  silently  but  swiftly  to 
the  very  heart  of  their  ecclesiastical  institutions,  and 
total  subversion  will  ultimately  ensue.  That  Amer- 
icans should  contemplate  without  apprehension  the 
gradual  increase  of  papal  power  is  not  so  astonish- 
ing, for  this  happy  land  has  never  groaned  beneath 
its  iron  sway.  But  that  the  descendants  of  Latimer 
and  of  Ridley,  of  Hooper  and  of  Cranmer,  should 
tamely  view  the  encroachments  of  this  monster 
hydra,  is  strange  indeed.  Do  not  imagine,  Florry, 
that  I  doubt  the  sincerity  of  all  who  belong  to  the 
Chutch  of  Rome.  I  know  and  believe  that  there 
are  many  earnest  and  conscientious  members — of 
this  there  cannot  be  a  doubt ;  yet  it  is  equally  true, 
that  the  most  devoted  Papists  are  to  be  found  among 
the  most  ignorant,  bigoted,  and  superstitious  of 
men.  The  masses  of  your  church  are  deceived  with 
pretended  miracles  and  wondrous  legends,  such  as 
the  one  currently  reported  respecting  the  holy  house 
of  Loretto,  which  seems  so  migratory,  and  flies  hun- 
Vol.  6  G— Evans 


148  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

dreds  of  miles  in  a  night.  These  marvelous  tales 
are  credited  by  the  uneducated ;  yet  no  enlightened 
man  or  woman  of  the  present  age,  who  has  fully  in- 
vestigated this  subject,  can  say  with  truth  that  they 
conscientiously  believe  the  doctrines  of  the  Romish 
Church  to  be  those  taught  by  our  Saviour,  or  its 
practices  in  accordance  with  the  general  tenor  of 
the  Bible.  This  may  seem  a  broad  assertion,  yet 
none  who  calmly  consider  the  subject  in  all  its  bear- 
ings, and  consult  the  page  of  history,  will  pronounce 
it  a  hasty  one." 

"  Yet  remember,  Mary,  that  the  sect  in  question 
is  proverbial  for  charitable  institutions.  One  vital 
principle  is  preserved.  Surely  this  is  a  redeeming 
virtue.  Catholics  are  untiring  in  schemes  of  benev- 
olence and  philanthrophy." 

"  You  will  start,  and  perhaps  condemn  me,  when 
I  reply  that  their  boasted  charity  is  but  the  mask 
behind  which  they  disseminate  the  doctrines  of  the 
Romish  Church.  I  may  appear  very  uncharitable  in 
the  expression  of  this  opinion;  yet  hear  me,  Florry; 
facts  are  incontrovertible.  If  you  will  think  a  mo- 
ment, you  can  not  fail  to  remember  Patrick,  the 

porter  at  our  friend  Mrs.  D 's.  Having  received 

a  dangerous  wound  in  his  foot,  he  was  sent  to  the 
hospital,  where  several  of  the  nurses  were  Sisters  of 
Charity.  He  remained  nearly  a  month,  and  on  his 

return  related  to  Mrs.  D ,  in  my  presence,  some 

of  the  circumstances  of  his  long  illness.  His  words 
made  a  lasting  impression  on  my  mind : 

"  '  Indeed,  and  I  am  glad  enough  to  come  home, 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE   OF  THE   ALAMO.  149 

ma'am;  for  never  was  I  treated  worse  in  my  life. 
The  first  .week,  Sister  Agnes,  who  nursed  in  my  room, 
was  kind  and  tender  as  conld  be,  and  thought,  I,  if 
ever  angels  come  to  earth,  this  good  woman  is  one; 
but  I  can  tell  ye  I  did  not  think  so  long :  she  read 
some  saints'  lives  to  us,  and  asked  me  if  I  was  a 
Catholic.  I  said  no,  I  was  no  Catholic.  Then  she 
tried  every  way  to  make  me  one,  and  told  me  if  I  re- 
fused I  would  surely  die  and  go  to  purgatory.  Faith ! 
the  more  she  talked  that  way,  the  more  I  wouldn't 
be  a  Catholic;  and  then  she  just  let  me  alone,  and 
not  another  thing  would  she  do  for  me.  I  might  call 
from  then  till  now,  and  never  a  step  would  she  come, 
or  nurse  me  a  bit.  It  is  no  good  care  of  hers  that 
has  brought  me  back  alive  and  well:  I  tell  you, 
Sister  Agnes  won't  do  for  any  but  Catholics.' 

"  Florry,  is  such  charity  akin  to  that  taught  by  the 
Bible  ?  Catholics  boast  of  their  asylums ;  and  by 
means  of  fairs  and  suppers,  large  amounts  are 
annually  collected  for  the  support  of  these  numer- 
ous institutions.  I  have  been  told  by  a  directress  of 
a  Protestant  orphan  asylum,  that  on  one  occasion  a 
squalid  woman,  accompanied  by  two  boys,  presented 
herself  and  entreated  that  her  children  might  be  re- 
ceived into  the  asylum.  The  unhappy  mother  in- 
formed the  directress  that  she  was  a  Roman  Catholic, 
and  had  claimed  the  protection  of  her  own  sect ; 
4  but,'  said  she,  tearfully,  •  Indeed  I  had  no  money  to 
pay  for  their  entrance,  and  they  refused  to  take  my 
children.1 

"  Such,  Florry,  is  their  boasted  charity;    and  I 


IJO  INEZ  ;   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

might  add,  their  lived  are  little  in  accordance  with 
the  spirit  inculcated  by  our  Saviour,  who  said, 
*  When  ye  do  your  alms,  let  not  your  left  hand  know 
what  your  right  hand  doeth.'  There  are  thousands 
who  daily  dispense  charities  of  various  kinds;  yet 
they  do  not  term  themselves  Sisters  of  Charity; 
neither  promenade  the  streets  in  a  garb  so  anti- 
quated and  peculiar  as  to  excite  attention,  or  elicit 
encomiums  on  their  marvelously  holy  lives  and 
charitable  deeds.  Do  not  suppose,  Florry,  because 
I  speak  thus,  that  I  doubt  the  sincerity  of  all  who 
enroll  themselves  as  Sisters.  I  do  believe  that  there 
are  many  pious  and  conscientious  women  thus 
engaged ;  yet  they  are  but  tools  of  the  priests,  and 
by  them  placed  in  these  institutions  for  the  purpose 
of  making  proselytes." 

A  pause  ensued,  and  Florence  paced  slowly  along 
the  bank.  Somewhat  abruptly  she  replied : 

"  Yet  you  will  admit,  Mary,  that  we  owe  much  to 
the  monks,  by  whose  efforts  light  and  knowledge 
were  preserved  during  the  dark  ages  ?  But  for 
them  every  vestige  of  literature,  every  record  of  the 
past,  would  inevitably  have  been  lost. " 

"  Tell  me,  Florry,  what  caused  the  dark  ages  ? 
Was  it  not  the  gradual  withdrawal  of  light  and  knowl- 
edge— the  crushing,  withering  influence  exerted 
on  the  minds  of  men  ?  And  tell  me  if  this  influence 
was  not  wielded  by  the  priests  of  Rome — corrupted, 
fallen  Rome  ?  During  the  dark  period  in  question, 
papal  power  was  at  its  height ;  the  thunders  of  the 
Vatican  were  echoed  from  the  Adriatic  to  the 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  151 

Atlantic— from  the  Mediterranean  to  the  North  Sea. 
An  interdict  of  its  profligate  Pope  clothed  cities,  and 
kingdoms,  and  empires  in  mourning;  the  churches 
were  closed,  the  dead  unburied,  and  no  rite,  save 
that  of  baptism,  performed.  Ignorance  and  super- 
stition reigned  throughout  the  world ;  and  it  is  said, 
that  in  the  ninth  century  scarce  a  person  was  to  be 
found  in  Rome  itself  who  knew  even  the  alphabet. 
Yet  monasteries  crowned  every  eminence,  and  dotted 
the  vales  of  southern  Europe.  The  power  of  the 
priesthood  was  supreme.  Florry,  I  do  admit  that 
what  remained  of  light  and  learning  was  hid  in  the 
cell  of  the  anchorite;  not  disseminated,  but  effectu- 
ally concealed.  They  forgot  our  Saviour's  injunc- 
tion— '  Let  your  light  shine  before  men.'  Oh! 
Florry,  did  not  teachers  of  the  dark  ages  put  their 
light  under  a  bushel  ?  Dark  ages  will  ever  follow 
the  increase  of  papal  power.  It  is  part  of  their 
system  to  keep  the  masses  in  ignorance.  How  truly 
it  has  been  said  that  Rome  asked  but  one  thing,  and 
that  Luther  denied  her — '  A  fulcrum  of  ignorance  on 
which  to  rest  that  lever  by  which  she  can  balance 
the  world.'  They  dare  not  allow  their  people  light 
and  knowledge;  and  what  to  others  was  indeed  a 
dark  age,  is  regarded  by  the  priests  of  Rome  as  a 
golden  season.  Can  you  point  to  a  single  papal 
country  which  is  not  enveloped  in  the  black  cloud  of 
superstition  and  crime  ?  To  Italy,  and  Spain,  and 
Portugal,  the  dark  ages  have  not  passed  away; 
neither  will  they,  till  liberty  of  conscience  is  allowed, 
and  the  Bible  permitted  in  the  hands  of  the  laity. 


INEZ  J  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

Under  papal  rule,  those  unfortunate  nations  win 
never  rise  from  their  degradation;  for  their  masters 
and  teachers  'love  darkness  rather  than  light,  be- 
cause their  deeds  are  evil.'  It  has  often  been  said 
by  those  who  fail  properly  to  consider  this  subject, 
that  the  Roman  Catholic  schools  and  colleges  which 
abound  in  the  United  States  are  far  superior  to  simi- 
lar Protestant  institutions.  Why  do  not  these  very 
superior  teachers  disseminate  knowledge  at  home  ? 
Why  do  they  not  first  enlighten  the  Spaniards,  ere 
they  cross  the  Atlantic  to  instruct  American  pupils  ? 
The  ignorance  of  Neapolitans  is  proverbial;  yet 
Naples  is  the  peculiarly  favored  city  of  Romanism. 
Tell  me  why  these  learned  professors  do  not  teach 
their  own  people  ?  Florry,  papal  institutions  in 
America  are  but  branches  of  the  Propaganda.  They 
but  come  to  proselyte.  I  have  heard  it  repeatedly 
averred  of  a  certain  nunnery, '  that  no  efforts  were 
made  to  affect  the  religious  views  of  the  pupils.' 
Yet  I  know  that  such  is  not  the  case.  They  are  far 
too  politic  openly  to  attack  the  religion ;  yet  secretly 
it  is  undermined.  I  will  tell  you  how,  Florry,  for 
you  look  wonderingly  at  me.  Prizes  are  awarded 
for  diligence,  and  application;  and  these  prizes  are 
books,  setting  forth  in  winning  language  the  doctrines 
of  their  church.  I  have  seen  one  of  these  which  was 
given  to  M K ,  and  I  also  read  it  most  care- 
fully. It  was  entitled  '  Alethea;  or,  a  Defense  of 
Catholic  Doctrines.'  Yet  most  indignantly  they 
deny  any  attempts  toward  proselyting  the  pupils  in- 
trusted to  their  care." 


INEZ  ;   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  153 

•*  Who  will  deny  the  truth  of  your  statements, 
Mary  ?  Yet,  if  such  are  the  facts,  how  can  the  world  be 
so  utterly  ignorant  of,  or  indifferent  to  them  ?  Strange 
that  they  can  thus  regard  a  subject  so  fraught  with 
interest  to  every  lover  of  liberty — to  every  patriot." 

"  Florry,  Papists  are  unacquainted  with  these 
things;  for,  begirt  with  darkening,  crushing  influ- 
ence, they  are  effectually  secluded  from  even  a 
wandering  ray  of  light  on  this  subject.  The  avenue 
through  which  all  information  is  conveyed  at  the 
present  day  is  barred  to  them.  Books  are  denied  to 
the  Catholic  laity.  You  may  ask  how  this  is  effected 
in  this  enlightened  and  liberal  age.  The  prelates 
of  Rome,  who  long  ago  resorted  to  ignorance  as  their 
bulwark,  are  ever  on  the  alert.  No  sooner  is  a  new 
publication  announced,  than  it  is  most  carefully 
perused  by  them;  and  if  calculated  to  point  out  the 
fallacy  of  their  doctrines,  or  depict  their  abuse  of 
power,  a  papal  bull  is  forthwith  issued,  prohibiting 
all  Catholics  from  reading  the  heretical  book.  The 
writings  of  the  prince  of  novelists,  Walter  Scott, 
which  are  universally  read  by  other  sects,  are  per- 
emptorily refused  to  all  Papists.  And  why  ?  Because 
many  of  his  darts  are  aimed  at  their  profligate  priest- 
hood. Now  if,  as  they  tell  their  people,  these  are 
but  slanderous  attacks  on  their  religion,  surely  the 
shafts  would  fall  harmless  on  the  armor  of  truth. 
Why  then  so  strenuously  oppose  their  reading  such 
works !  Florry,  the  trite  adage, 4  Truth  is  the  hard- 
est of  all  to  bear,'  is  applicable  to  these  prelates  of 
papacy;  who,  knowing  their  danger,  are  fully  re- 


154  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

solved  to  guard  the  avenues  of  light  and  knowledge. 
The  Pope  of  imperial  Rome,  surrounded  as  he  is 
with  luxury,  magnificence,  and  hosts  of  scarlet- 
liveried  cardinals,  who  stand  in  readiness  to  convey 
his  mandates  to  the  remotest  corners  of  the  earth, 
has  been  made  to  tremble  on  his  throne  by  the  pen 
of  feeble  women.  The  truthful  delineations  of  Char- 
lotte Elizabeth  startled  his  Holiness  of  the  Vatican 
and  the  assistant  conclave  of  learned  cardinals 
trembling  lest  their  laity  of  the  Green  Isle  should 
catch  a  glimpse  of  light.  A  bull  was  quickly  fulmin- 
ated against  her  heretical  productions.  Alas !  when 
will  the  Romish  Church  burst  the  iron  bands  which 
begirt  her  ? 

"  The  world  at  large — I  mean  the  world  as  com- 
posed of  Protestants,  latitudinarians,  politicians, 
statesmen,  and  fashionable  dunces,  are  in  a  great 
measure  acquainted  with  these  facts;  but  knowing 
the  rapidly  increasing  power  of  papal  Rome,  and  the 
vast  influence  already  wielded  in  this  happy  land  by 
its  priesthood,  they  prefer  to  float  along  with  the 
tide,  rather  than  vigorously  resist  this  blasting  sys- 
tem of  ignorance,  superstition,  and  crime  which, 
stealthily  approaching  from  the  east  and  from  the 
west,  will  unite  and  crush  the  liberties  of  our  glori- 
ous Republic.  As  patriots,  they  are  called  on  to 
oppose  strenuously  its  every  encroachment — yet  they 
dare  not ;  for  should  they  venture  to  declaim  against 
its  errors,  they  endanger  their  popularity  and  incur 
the  risk  of  defeat  at  an  ensuing  election.  Florry,  I 
was  once  conversing  on  this  subject  with  a  lady  who 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE   ALAMO.  155 

had  recently  visited  Europe,  and  inquired  of  her  if 
she  had  not  marked  the  evils  and  abuses  which  ex- 
isted in  the  papal  dominions  through  which  she  trav- 
eled. She  whisperingly  replied — '  Certainly,  my 
dear,  I  could  not  fail  to  mark  the  ignorance  and 
degradation  which  prevailed,  but  I  never  speak  of  it, 
because,  you  know,  it  makes  one  very  unpopular.' 
Here,  Florry,  you  have  the  key  to  the  mystery. 
Americans  quietly  contemplate  this  momentous  sub- 
ject, and  silently  view  the  abuses  which  are  creeping 
into  our  communities,  because  if  they  expose  them, 
it  is  at  the  hazard  of  becoming  unpopular." 

"  Mary,  can  I  ever,  ever  forget  the  hour  in  the 
church-yard  ?"  Florence  sadly  said,  as  they  rose  and 
proceeded  to  the  house.  "  Oh !  it  seems  branded  on 
my  brain ;  yet  I  must  cast  this  new  grief  from  me, 
far  enough  of  anguish  was  mine  before.  Still  I  feel 
that  there  is  a  path  just  ahead,  and  it  seems  lighted 
up.  But  a  slight  barrier  intervenes,  and  when  that 
is  passed  all  will  be  well.  Pray  for  me,  Mary,  that  I 
may  be  enabled  to  lead  the  life  of  a  Christian,  and 
last  die  the  death  of  the  righteous." 

Clasping  tightly  the  hand  which  rested  in  her 
own,  Mary  replied : 

"  While  life  remains,  it  shall  indeed  be  my  prayer 
that  you  may  be  blessed  on  earth,  and  rewarded  in 
heaven.  Oh,  Florry,  I  thank  God  that  the  scales 
have  fallen  from  your  eyes,  and  that  truth  shines 
brightly  before  you."  She  stopped  suddenly,  and 
pressed  her  hand  to  her  side  while  the  pale  brow 
wrinkled  with  pain. 


INEZ  J  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

"  I  have  been  talking  too  much,  there  is  a  suffocat- 
ing sensation  here." 

"  It  is  only.momentary,  I  hope." 

Mary  shook  her  head,  and  smiled  sadly:  "  I  don't 
know,  Florry;  I  have  felt  strangely  of  late." 

That  evening,  as  the  household  were  busily  pre- 
paring for  their  intended  departure,  Dr.  Bryant 
abruptly  entered,  and  informed  them,  with  a  clouded 
brow,  that  removal  was  impossible,  as  he  could  not 
procure  a  pair  of  horses  for  any  price. 

"  It  is  perfectly  unaccountable  what  has  possessed 
the  Mexican  from  whom  I  purchased  as  many  as  I 
thought  necessary.  We  agreed  as  to  price,  and  they 
were  to  be  sent  this  afternoon ;  but  about  two  hours 
ago,  he  came  to  me,  and  declared  that  he  had 
changed  his  mind,  and  would  not  part  with  them. 
I  offered  double  the  original  amount,  but  he  said 
money  was  no  inducement.  I  strove  to  borrow  or 
hire  for  any  given  time,  but  every  proposal  was  per- 
emptorily declined,  and  as  it  is  impossible  to  leave 
here,  I  came  over  to  entreat  you  to  remain  with  my 
sister,  at  least  for  a  few  days,  till  we  can  determine 
what  is  advisable  to  do." 

His  proposal  was  accepted,  and  the  ensuing  day 
saw  them  inmates  of  Mrs.  Carlton's. 


INEZ  J  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

"  We're  the  sons  of  sires  that  baffled 

Crowned  and  mitred  tyranny : 
They  defied  the  field  and  scaffold 
For  their  birth-rights — so  will  we  !H 

— Campbett. 

THE  issue  of  the  engagement  of  the  8th  October 
placed  Goliad,  with  valuable  munitions,  in  the  hands 
of  the  Texans.  Many  and  joyous  acclamations  rose 
from  their  camp,  hope  beamed  on  every  face,  and 
sanguine  expectations  were  entertained  of  a  speedy 
termination  of  the  conflict.  Showly  the  little  band 
proceeded  toward  Bexar,  receiving  daily  accessions 
from  head- quarters,  and  girding  themselves  for  a 
desperate  struggle.  General  Cos,  fully  appreciating 
the  importance  of  the  post  he  held,  made  active 
preparation  for  its  defense,  never  doubting,  however, 
that  the  strong  fortifications  of  the  Alamo  would 
prove  impregnable  to  assailants  so  feeble  numeri- 
cally. Under  the  direction  of  the  cautious  Spaniard, 
the  town  already  assumed  a  beleaguered  aspect,  and 
in  addition  to  the  watchman  stationed  on  the  obser- 
vatory of  the  fortress,  a  sentinel  paced  to  and  fro  on 
the  flat  roof  of  the  gray  old  church,  having  orders  to 
give  instant  alarm  in  case  of  danger  by  the  ringing 
of  the  several  bells.  Silver-haired  men,  bending 
beneath  the  weight  of  years,  alone  passed  along  the 
deserted  streets,  and  augured  of  the  future  in  the 


158  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

now  silent  Plaza.  The  stores  were  closed,  and 
anxiously  the  few  Americans  awaited  the  result; 
rising  at  dawn  with  the  belief  that  ere  twilight  closed 
again  their  suspense  would  be  terminated.  On  the 
morning  of  the  28th  the  booming  of  distant  artillery 
was  borne  on  the  southern  breeze.  With  throbbing 
hearts  the  inhabitants  gathered  about  their  doors, 
and  strained  their  eyes  toward  the  south.  A  large 
body  of  Mexicans,  availing  themselves  of  the  cover 
of  night,  sallied  from  the  Alamo,  hoping  to  cut  off  a 
squad  of  ninety-two  men,  who  leaving  the  main  body 
of  the  Texan  army,  had  advanced  for  the  purpose  of 
reconnoitring,  and  were  posted  at  the  old  Mission  of 
Conception,  some  two  miles  below  the  town;  and 
here  the  contest  was  waged.  The  watchman  on  the 
church  listened  intently  as  each  report  reached  his 
ear,  and  kept  his  fingers  firmly  on  the  bell-rope. 
An  hour  passed  on,  and  the  sun  rode  high  in  heaven; 
gradually  the  thundering  died  away.  Quicker  grew 
the  breathing,  and  tighter  the  cold  fingers  clasped 
each  other.  The  last  sound  ceased:  a  deathlike 
silence  reigned  throughout  the  town,  and  many  a 
cheek  grew  colorless  as  marble.  There  came  a  con- 
fused sound  of  shouts — the  mingling  of  many  voices 
— the  distant  tramp  of  cavalry;  and  then  there  fell 
on  the  aching  ears  the  deep,  thrilling  tones  of  the 
church  bells. 

An  intervening  bend  in  the  river  was  quickly 
passed,  and  a  body  of  Mexican  cavalry  dashed  at  full 
gallop  across  the  plain,  nor  slackened  their  pace  till 
secure  behind  the  sombre  walls  of  the  Alamo. 


INEZ  ;   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  159 

At  intervals  of  every  few  moments,  small  squads 
pushed  in,  then  a  running  band  of  infantry,  and 
lastly,  a  solitary  horseman  reeling  in  his  saddle,  drip- 
ping with  gore.  Madly  his  wounded  horse  sprang 
on,  when  just  as  the  fort  was  gained,  his  luckless 
rider  rolled  senseless  at  the  entrance.  One  deep 
groan  was  echoed  from  church  to  fortress.  Victory, 
which  had  hovered  doubtful  o'er  the  bloody  field, 
settled  at  last  on  the  banner  of  the  "  Lone  Star.'* 
Against  what  fearful  odds  is  victory  ofttimes  won! 
The  intrepid  Texans,  assaulted  by  forces  which 
trebled  their  own,  fought  as  only  Texans  can.  With 
unerring  precision  they  lifted  their  rifles,  and  artil- 
lerymen and  officers  rolled  together  in  the  dust. 
The  brave  little  band  conquered,  and  the  flying 
Mexicans  left  them  sole  masters  of  the  field  of  the 
ri  Horseshoe."  On  the  hill  which  rose  just  beyond 
the  town  stood,  in  bold  relief  against  the  eastern  sky, 
a  tall  square  building,  to  which  the  sobriquet  of 
"  Powder-House  "  was  applied.  Here,  as  a  means 
of  increased  vigilance,  was  placed  a  body  of  horse, 
for  the  purpose  of  watching  the  plain  which 
stretched  along  the  river.  Fearing  every  moment 
to  see  the  victorious  Texans  at  the  heels  of  their  re- 
treating infantry,  they  had  orders  to  dash  in,  at  the 
first  glimpse  of  the  advance-guard  of  the  enemy. 
But  night  closed  and  none  appeared,  and,  dreading 
the  morning  light,  many  lay  down  to  sleep  at  the 
close  of  that  eventful  day.  Several  hours  elapsed, 
and  then  the  Texan  forces,  under  General  Burle- 


160  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

son,  wound  across  the  valley,  and  settled  along  the 
verge  of  the  town.  The  Alamo  was  beleaguered. 

Forced,  as  it  were,  to  remain  a  witness  of  the 
horrors  of  the  then  approaching  conflict,  the  cousins 
strove  to  cast  from  them  the  gloomy  forebodings 
which  crept  into  their  hearts,  darkening  the  present 
and  investing  the  future  with  phantoms  of  terror. 
Mrs.  Carlton  and  Mary  were  far  more  hopeful  than 
the  remainder  of  the  little  circle,  and  kept  up  the 
semblance  of  cheerfulness,  which  ever  flies  at  the 
approach  of  danger.  The  girls  saw  but  little  of  the 
gentlemen,  for  Mr.  Carlton  was  ever  out  in  search  of 
tidings  from  the  camp,  and  Frank,  in  opposition  to 
his  sister's  tearful  entreaties,  had  enlisted  immedi- 
ately after  General  Burleson's  arrival.  His  manner,, 
during  his  brief  visits,  was  considerate  and  kind ;  yet 
Mary  fancied  at  times  that  he  avoided  her,  though, 
marking  her  declining  health,  he  had  prescribed 
some  simple  remedy,  and  never  failed  to  inquire  if 
she  were  not  improving.  Still  there  was  a  certain 
something,  indescribable,  yet  fully  felt,  which  made 
her  shrink  from  meeting  him,  and  as  week  after 
week  passed,  her  cheek  grew  paler,  and  her  step 
more  feeble. 

With  an  anxious  heart,  Mrs.  Carlton  watched  her 
failing  strength ;  but  to  all  inquiries  and  fears  Mary 
replied  that  she  did  not  suffer,  save  from  her  cough, 
and  for  a  time  dispelled  her  apprehensions. 

One  evening  Mary  stood  leaning  against  the  win- 
dow, looking  earnestly,  wistfully  upon  the  beautiful 
tints  which  ever  linger  in  the  western  sky.  She 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  l6l 

stretched  her  arms  toward  the  dim  outline,  murmur- 
ing  slowly: 

41  Oh!  that  my  life  may  fade  away  as  gently  as 
those  tints,  and  that  I  may  at  last  rest  on  the  bosom 
of  my  God." 

Darkness  closed  around — the  soft  hues  melted 
into  the  deep  blue  of  the  zenith  as  she  stood  com- 
muning  with  her  own  heart ,  and  she  started  when  a 
shawl  was  wrapped  about  her,  and  the  window 
closed. 

"  As  ministering  physician,  I  cannot  allow  such 
neglect  of  injunctions.  How  dare  you  expose  your- 
self after  my  express  direction  to  keep  close  ?" 

"  I  have  kept  very  close  all  day,  and  did  not  know 
that  star-gazing  was  interdicted." 

As  she  spoke,  a  violent  fit  of  coughing  succeeded; 
he  watched  her  anxiously. 

"  Do  you  suffer  any  acute  pain  ?" 

*'  Occasionally  I  do;  but  nothing  troubles  me  so 
much  as  an  unpleasant  fluttering  about  my  heart, 
which  I  often  have." 

"  You  must  be  very  careful,  or  your  cough  wiH  in- 
crease as  winter  comes  on." 

Mary  repressed  a  sigh  which  struggled  up  from 
her  heart,  and  inquired  if  there  was  any  news. 

"  We  can  not  learn  exactly  what  is  happening 
within  the  Alamo,  but  feel  assured  the  crisis  is 
at  hand;  some  excitement  has  prevailed  in  the  gar- 
rison all  day,  and  it  is  confidently  expected  in  oar 
camp  that  the  assault  will  soon  be  made/' 


162  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

"  Oh !  may  God  help  you  in  the  coming  strife,  and 
adjudge  victory  to  the  side  of  justice  and  liberty." 

"  Apparently  the  chances  are  against  us,  Miss 
Irving,  yet  I  regard  the  future  without  apprehension, 
for  the  Texans  are  fearless,  and  General  Burleson  in 
every  respect  worthy  the  confidence  reposed  in  him. 
Allow  gloomy  forebodings  no  room  in  your  heart, 
but,  like  myself,  anticipate  a  speedy  termination  of 
the  war." 

"  Yet  your  situation  is  perilous  in  the  extreme; 
hourly  you  incur  danger,  and  each  day  may  be  your 
last.  Oh !  why  will  you  hazard  your  life,  and  cause 
your  sister  such  bitter  anguish  ?"  Mary  replied, 
with  quivering  lips,  while  the  tone  faltered,  despite 
her  efforts  to  seem  calm. 

"  At  least,  I  could  not  die  in  a  better  cause;  and 
as  the  price  of  independence,  I  would  willingly  yield 
up  my  life.  Yet  Ellen's  tears  are  difficult  to  bear;  I 
bade  her  adieu  a  few  moments  since,  and  must  not 
meet  her  again  till  all  is  decided.  So  good-by,  Miss 
Irving." 

He  held  her  hand  in  his,  pressing  it  warmly,  then 
lifted  the  cold  fingers  to  his  lips,  and  quietly  turned 
away. 


IlfEZ;  A  TALE  OF  THB  ALAMO.  163 


CHAPTER  XX. 

0  It  rains — what  lady  loves  a  rainy  day  ? 
She  loves  a  rainy  day  who  sweeps  the  hearth 
And  threads  the  busy  needle,  or  applies 
The  scissors  to  the  torn  or  thread-bare  sleeve ; 
And  blesses  God  that  she  has  friends  and  home." 

— Anon. 

"MARY,  where  is  your  cousin  ?  I  have  not  seen 
her  since  breakfast,"  inquired  Mrs.  Carlton,  as  the 
two  friends  sat  conversing  in  the  chamber  of  the 
latter. 

"  She  laid  aside  her  book  just  now,  declaring  it 
was  so  dark  she  could  scarcely  read.  This  gloomy 
day  has  infected  her  spirits;  she  is  probably  in  the 
dining-room.  I  will  seek  her."  And  rising,  Mary 
left  the  apartment. 

For  two  days  the  rain  had  fallen  in  torrents,  and 
now  on  the  third  morning,  the  heavens  were  still 
overcast,  and  at  intervals  of  every  few  moments  the 
heavy  clouds  discharged  themselves  in  copious 
showers.  The  despondency  induced  by  the  un- 
settled times  was  enhanced  by  the  gloomy  weather, 
and  many  an  earnest  wish  was  expressed  that  sun- 
shine would  soon  smile  again  upon  the  town. 

Weary  with  pacing  up  and  down  the  dining-room, 
Florence  had  stationed  herself  at  the  window,  and 
stood  with  her  cheek  pressed  against  the  panes,  gaz- 


164  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

ing  dreamily  out  upon  the  deluged  streets.  She  was 
roused  from  her  reverie  by  Mary's  entrance. 

"  Florry,  I  have  come  in  quest  of  you.  Pray,  how 
are  you  amusing  yourself  here,  all  alone  ?" 

"  Communing  with  my  own  thoughts,  as  usual. 
Here,  Mary,  stand  beside  me.  As  you  came  in  I 
was  puzzling  myself  to  discover  how  those  Mexican 
women  across  the  street  are  employing  themselves. 
They  seem  distressed,  yet  every  now  and  then  chatter 
with  most  perfect  unconcern.  There,  they  are  both 
on  their  knees,  with  something  like  a  picture  hang- 
ing on  the  fence  before  them.  They  dart  in  and 
out  of  the  house  in  a  strange,  excited  manner.  Per- 
haps you  can  enlighten  me  ?" 

Mary  looked  earnestly  in  the  direction  indicated 
by  her  cousin,  and  at  length  replied : 

"  You  will  scarcely  credit  my  explanation :  yet  I 
assure  you  I  perfectly  understand  the  pantomine. 
Florry,  look  more  particularly  at  the  picture  sus- 
pended in  the  rain.  What  does  it  most  resemble, 
think  you  ?" 

"  Ah,  I  see  now — it  is  an  image  of  the  Virgin ! 
But  I  should  suppose  they  considered  it  sacrilegious 
to  expose  it  to  the  inclemencies  of  the  weather." 

"  Look  closely,  Florry,  they  are  praying  to  the 
Virgin,  and  imploring  a  cessation  of  the  rain.  I 
once  happened  at  Sefior  Gonzale's  during  a  thunder- 
storm, and,  to  my  astonishment,  the  family  immedi- 
ately hung  out  all  the  paintings  of  saints  they  pos- 
sessed. I  inquired  the  meaning,  and  was  told  in 
answer,  that  the  shower  would  soon  pass  over,  as 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  165 

they  had  petitioned  the  images  to  that  effect.  Those 
women  have  repeated  a  certain  number  of  aves,  and 
withdrawn  into  the  house,  but  ere  long  you  will  see 
them  return,  and  go  through  the  same  formula." 

"  It  is  almost  incredible  that  they  should  ascribe 
such  miraculous  power  to  these  little  bits  of  painted 
canvas,"  replied  Florence,  gazing  curiously  upon  the 
picture  which  was  suspended  with  the  face  toward 
her. 

"  No,  not  incredible,  when  you  remember  the 
quantity  of  relics  annually  exported  from  Rome, 
such  as  '  chips  of  the  Cross,1 '  bones  of  the  Apostles/ 
and  '  fragments  of  the  Virgin's  apparel/  which  Pa- 
pists conscientiously  believe  are  endowed  with  mag- 
ical powers  sufficient  to  relieve  various  infirmities. 
I  doubt  not  that  those  women  confidently  expect  a 
favorable  response  to  their  petition ;  and  if  such  in- 
tercession could  avail,  it  was  certainly  never  more 
needed.  Absurd  as  the  practice  appears  to  us,  a 
doubt  of  the  efficacy  of  their  prayers  never  crosses 
their  minds.  They  are  both  devout  and  conscien- 
tious." 

"  But,  Mary,  such  superstitious  ignorance  is  en- 
tirely confined  to  the  degraded  and  uneducated 
classes.  No  really  intelligent  mind  could  rely  on 
yonder  picture  to  dispel  these  clouds,  and  win  a  ray 
of  sunshine.  I  think  you  are  too  hasty  in  supposing 
that  the  enlightened  portion  of  the  Catholic  Church 
place  such  implicit  confidence  in  images  and  relics." 

"What  do  you  term  the  enlightened  portion  of 


l66  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

the  church  ?  Would  not  its  prelates  be  considered 
as  belonging  to  that  class  ?" 

"  Most  certainly  they  would,  Mary:  for  doubtless 
many  of  the  greatest  minds  Europe  has  produced, 
were  and  are  still  to  be  found  among  the  Roman 
Catholic  clergy.  Yet  you  would  not  insinuate  that 
these  rely  on  the  efficacy  of  such  mummery  as  that 
we  have  just  witnessed  ?"  replied  Florence,  fixing  her 
eyes  inquiringly  upon  her  cousin's  face. 

"  Allow  me  to  ask  one  question  ere  I  reply, 
Florry,  do  you  believe  the  days  of  miracles  have 
passed  away,  or  do  you  suppose  that  the  laws  of 
nature  are  still  constantly  infringed,  the  harmony  of 
cause  and  effect  destroyed,  and  wonderful  phe- 
nomena still  vouchsafed  to  favored  Europeans  ?" 

"  Of  course  I  do  not  advocate  the  theory  that 
miracles  occur  at  the  present  day.  It  is  too  pre- 
posterous to  advance  in  this  enlightened  age.  There 
are  prehaps  natural  phenomena,  only  to  be  explained 
by  scientific  research ;  yet  in  the  common  accepta- 
tion of  the  term  miracle,  I  unhesitatingly  declare 
that  I  believe  none  have  occurred  since  the  days  of 
Christ  and  the  Apostles." 

"  Then,  Florry,  your  position  is  untenable,  for 
Romish  prelates  of  the  present  day  do  most  unques- 
tionably defend  the  theory  of  the  annual  occurrence 
of  miracles.  Bishop ,  whose  intellectual  endow- 
ments are  the  constant  theme  of  encomiums,  has 
recently  visited  Italy.  On  his  return  to  America, 
he  brought  with  him  a  valuable  collection  of  relics, 
which  he  distributed  among  the  members  of  his 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE   ALAMO.  I6/ 

church.  Florry,  I  can  vouch  for  the  truth  of  what 
I  now  say.  He  declared  himself  extremely  fortu- 
nate in  having  happened  at  Naples  during  the 
anniversary  of  the  death  of  St.  Janarius.  Said  he, 
*  I  repaired  to  the  place  of  his  martyrdom,  and  took 
into  my  own  hand  the  vial  containing  the  blood  of 
the  blessed  saint,  now  decomposed.  As  the  hour 
rolled  around  I  watched  the  holy  dust  in  breath- 
less anxiety;  at  the  appointed  moment  I  perceived 
a  change  in  its  appearance,  and  while  I  held  the 
vial  in  my  hand  the  ashes  liquefied  and  became 
veritable  blood !  while  the  dark  spots  on  a  neighbor- 
ing stone  turned  of  a  deep  crimson.'  Now  the  bishop 
related  this  miracle  far  and  wide,  and  priests  min- 
istering at  the  altar  repeated  his  words  to  their  lis- 
tening flocks.  Sanctioned  by  the  example  of  their 
orelates,  do  you  wonder  that  the  ignorant  masses  of 
the  Romish  church  should  implicity  rely  upon  the 
intercession  of  saints,  and  place  unbounded  confi- 
dence in  the  miraculous  powers  imputed  to  relics  ? 
Again,  the  Manuals  placed  in  the  hands  of  the  laity, 
are  compiled  under  the  special  supervision  of  these 
ecclesiastical  professors,  who  necessarily  indorse  all 
we  see  there  advanced.  In  the  Ursuline  Manual  I 
find  this  assertion :  '  The  Hail  Mary  was  composed  in 
Heaven,  dictated  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  delivered 
to  the  faithful  by  the  Angel  Gabriel!'  Now,  Florry, 
does  not  this  seem  blasphemy,  bordering  on  the 
absurd  ?  What  conscientious,  honest,  enlightened 
Christian  would  unblushingly  defend  such  a  declara- 
tion ?" 


168  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

"  But,  Mary,  admitting  as  you  do,  that  you  believe 
there  exist  many  truly  conscientious  members  of 
this  sect,  why  indulge  your  apprehension  at  the 
promulgation  of  its  tenets  ?"  replied  Florence. 

"  I  might  answer  you,  Florry,  in  the  words  of 
Henry  IV.,  who  inquired  of  a  celebrated  Protestant 
divine,  *  if  a  man  might  be  saved  by  the  Roman 
Catholic  religion  ?'  '  Undoubtedly,'  replied  the 
clergyman,  *  if  his  life  and  heart  be  holy.'  '  Then,' 
said  the'  king,  '  according  to  both  Catholics  and 
Protestants,  I  may  be  saved  by  the  Catholic  relig- 
ion ;  but  if  I  embrace  your  religion,  I  shall  not  be 
saved  according  to  the  Catholics.'  Thus  Henry 
most  unquestionably  adjudged  Protestants  the  more 
tolerant  of  the  two  sects.  Here,  Florry,  you  have 
the  clew  to  my  anti- Romanism.  I  fear  the  exten- 
sion of  papal  doctrines,  because  liberty  of  conscience 
was  never  yet  allowed  where  sufficient  power  was 
vested  in  the  Roman  Catholic  clergy  to  compel  sub- 
mission. To  preserve  the  balance  of  power  in 
ecclesiastical  affairs  is  the  only  aim  of  Protestants. 
We  but  contend  for  the  privilege  of  placing  the  Bible 
in  the  hands  of  the  masses — of  flashing  the  glorious 
flambeau  of  truth  into  the  dark  recesses  of  ignor- 
ance and  superstition — into  the  abysmal  depths  of 
papal  iniquity.  Unscrupulously  employing  every 
method  conducive  to  the  grand  end  of  disseminat- 
ing Romish  dogmas,  the  fagot,  the  wheel,  and  all  the 
secret  horrors  of  the  Inquisition,  were  speedily 
brought  to  bear  upon  all  who  dared  to  assume  the 
privilege  of  worshiping  God  according  to  the  dictates 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  169 

of  an  unfettered  conscience.  If  the  bloody  tragedies 
of  the  middle  ages  are  no  longer  enacted  upon  the 
theatre  of  a  more  enlightened  world,  it  is  because 
the  power  so  awfully  abused  has  been  wrested  from 
the  scarlet-robed  tenants  of  the  Vatican.  The  same 
fierce,  intolerable  tyranny  is  still  exercised  where 
their  jurisdiction  is  unquestioned.  From  the  admin- 
istration of  the  pontifical  states  of  Italy  to  the  regula- 
tion of  convent  discipline,  we  trace  the  workings  of 
the  same  iron  rule.  No  barriers  are  too  mighty  to 
be  overborne,  no  distinctions  too  delicate  to  be 
thrust  rudely  aside.  Even  the  sweet  sacredness  of 
the  home  circle  is  not  exempt  from  the  crushing, 
withering  influence.  Ah!  how  many  fair  young 
members  of  the  household  band  have  been  decoyed 
from  the  hearthstone  and  immured  in  gloomy  cells. 
Ah !  how  many  a  widowed  parent  has  mourned  over 
the  wreck  of  all  that  was  beautiful  in  a  cherished 
daughter,  snatched  by  the  hand  of  bigotry  from  her 
warm  embrace,  and  forever  incarcerated  in  monastic 
gloom.  Oh !  tell  me,  Florry,  if  compulsory  service 
is  acceptable  to  all-seeing  God  ?  If  the  warm  young 
heart,  beating  behind  many  a  convent  grate,  yearns 
to  burst  asunder  the  iron  bands  which  enthrall  her, 
and,  mingling  again  upon  the  stage  of  life  to  per- 
form the  duties  for  which  she  was  created,  oh', 
where  in  holy  writ  is  sanction  found  for  the  tyrannical 
decree  which  binds  her  there  forever— a  living  sacri- 
fice ?" 


I/O  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

•'  Tis  the  light  that  tells  the  dawning 

Of  the  bright  millennial  day, 

Heralding  its  blessed  morning, 

With  its  peace-restoring  ray. 

***** 

.  *'  Man  no  more  shall  seek  dominion 

Through  a  sea  of  human  gore; 
War  shall  spread  its  gloomy  pinion 
O'er  the  peaceful  earth  no  more." 

— Burleigk. 

IT  was  a  dark,  tempestuous  night  in  December, 
and  the  keen  piercing  blasts  whistled  around  the 
corners  and  swept  meaningly  across  the  Plaza. 
Silence  reigned  over  the  town.  No  sound  of  life 
was  heard — the  shout  of  laughter,  the  shriek  of  pain 
or  wail  of  grief  was  stilled.  The  voices  of  many  who 
had  ofttimes  hurried  along  the  now  silent  and  de- 
serted streets  were  hushed  in  death.  The  eventful 
day  had  dawned  and  set,  the  records  of  its  deeds 
borne  on  to  God  by  the  many  that  had  fallen.  Oh ! 
when  shall  the  millennium  come  ?  When  shall  peace 
and  good- will  reign  throughout  the  world  ?  When 
shall  hatred,  revenge,  and  malice  die  !  When  shall 
the  fierce,  bitter  strife  of  man  with  fellow-man  be 
ended  ?  And  oh !  when  shall  desolating  war  forever 
cease,  and  the  bloody  records  of  the  past  be  viewed 
as  monster  distortions  of  a  maddened  brain  ?  These 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  I /I 

things  shall  be  when  the  polity  of  the  world  is 
changed.  When  statesmen  cease  their  political,  and 
prelates  their  ecclesiastical  intrigues ;  when  monarch, 
and  noble,  and  peasant,  alike  cast  selfishness  and 
dissimulation  far  from  them;  when  the  Bible  is  the 
text-book  of  the  world,  and  the  Golden  Rule  observed 
from  pole  to  pole. 

The  nth  of  December  is  marked  with  a  white 
stone  in  the  calendar  of  the  Texans.  During  the 
fortnight  which  elapsed  from  the  engagement  of 
Conception,  the  Alamo  had  been  closely  invested  by 
General  Burleson,  and  brief  though  bloody  struggles 
almost  daily  occurred.  The  besiegers  numbered 
only  eight  hundred,  while  the  fortress  was  garrisoned 
by  twenty- five  hundred  Mexican  troops.  Yet  well- 
directed  valor  has  ever  proved  more  than  a  match 
for  numerical  superiority.  On  the  morning  of  the 
i  ith  a  desperate  assault  was  made,  a  violent  struggle 
ensued,  and  ere  long  victory  declared  for  the  "  Lone 
Star."  With  unutterable  chagrin  General  Cos  was 
forced  to  dispatch  a  messenger  bearing  the  white 
banner  of  submission  to  the  Texan  commander,  and 
night  saw  the  Alamo  again  in  Texan  hands,  and 
General  Cos  and  his  disheartened  band  prisoners  of 
war. 

Dr.  Bryant  had  received,  during  the  engagement, 
a  wound  in  the  arm,  which  he  caused  to  be  dressed, 
and  placing  the  injured  member  in  a  sling,  strove  to 
soothe  the  dying  and  relieve  the  wounded.  Early  he 
dispatched  tidings  of  his  safety  to  his  anxious  sister, 
and  now  devoted  himself  to  the  suffering  soldiery. 
Vol.  6  H— Evans 


172  INEZ  ;   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

Midnight  found  him  beside  the  couch  of  pain,  and 
even  as  he  bent  to  administer  a  sedative,  a  hand  was 
lightly  laid  on  his  shoulder.  Looking  up,  Frank 
perceived  the  muffled  form  of  a  female,  though  un- 
able to  determine  who  stood  beside  him,  for  the  face 
was  entirely  concealed  by  a  mantilla. 

"  Can  I  do  any  thing  for  you,  Seflora  ?" 

"  Dr.  Bryant,  will  you  leave  your  people  here  to 
see  a  dying  Mexican — one  who  fell  fighting  against 
you  ?" 

"  Most  assuredly,  if  I  can  render  relief :  but  Inez, 
you  should  not  have  ventured  here  on  such  an  errand ; 
could  no  messenger  be  found  ?  It  was  imprudent  in 
you  to  come  at  this  hour." 

"  No  matter ;  I  felt  no  fear  of  your  people,  and 
mine  would  not  molest  me.  But  I  have  little  time 
to  wait.  Mafiuet  is  sorely  wounded:  we  bore  him 
from  the  Alamo,  and  he  lies  at  my  father's.  Can 
you  do  nothing  for  him  ?" 

"  I  hope  it  is  not  too  late  to  render  assistance ;  we 
will  go  immediately."  And  drawing  his  cloak  orer 
the  wounded  arm,  he  followed  her  to  Don  Garcia's. 
Neither  spoke  till  they  reached  the  threshold;  then 
Frank  said: 

"  Inez,  does  Mafiuel  know  you  came  for  me  ?" 

"Yes;  he  objected  at  first,  but  as  the  pain  grew 
more  acute,  he  begged  us  to  do  something  for  him. 
I  told  him  there  was  none  to  help  save  you.  He 
frowned  a  little,  but  nodded  his  head,  and  then  I 
lost  no  time." 

They  entered  the  apartment  of  the  sufferer,  and 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

Inez  started  at  the  change  which  had  taken  place 
during  her  temporary  absence.  Mafiuel  feebly 
turned  his  head  as  the  door  opened,  and  his  eyes 
brightened  as  they  rested  on  Inez.  He  motioned 
her  to  sit  beside  him,  and  she  complied,  lifting  his 
head  and  carefully  leaning  it  upon  her  bosom.  Dr. 
Bryant  examined  the  wound,  felt  the  pulse  and  stoop- 
ing over  him,  asked : 

"  Nevarro,  do  you  suffer  much  ?" 

Mafiuel  laid  his  hand  on  the  bleeding  side,  and 
feebly  inclined  his  head. 

"  Inez,  I  can  only  use  one  hand,  will  you  assist  me 
in  binding  this  wound  ?" 

She  attempted  to  rise,  but  Nevarro  clutched  her 
hand  and  gasped — "  Too  late — too  late !" 

Resolved  to  do  something,  if  possible,  for  his  re- 
lief, Frank  beckoned  to  the  Don,  who  stood  near, 
and  with  some  difficulty  they  succeeded  in  passing  a 
bandage  round  the  mouth  of  the  wound.  The 
groans  of  the  dying  man  caused  even  the  cheek  of 
the  fearless  Inez  to  blanch.  She  who  scorned  dan- 
ger, and  knew  not  fear,  could  not  witness  without  a 
pang  the  sufferings  of  another.  She  moaned  in 
very  sympathy,  and  stroked  gently  back  the  straight 
raven  hair,  now  clotted  with  blood.  The  exertion 
necessarily  made  proved  fatal;  the  breathing  grew 
short  and  painful,  the  pulse  slow  and  feeble.  Ap- 
pealing was  the  look  which  the  wounded  one  bent 
on  Inez ;  he  strove  to  utter  his  wishes,  but  alas,  it  was 
indeed  too  late.  The  blood  gushed  anew  from  his 
side,  crimsoning  bandage  and  couch,  and  dyeing 


INEZ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

Inez's  dress.  Dr.  Bryant  took  one  of  the  cold  hands 
and  pressed  it  kindly.  Manuel  opened  his  eyes,  and 
looked  gratefully  on  one  who  had  at  least  endeavored 
to  relieve  him.  Convulsively  the  fingers  closed  over 
his  physician's  hand;  again  he  turned  his  face  to 
Inez,  and  with  a  groan  expired. 

Frank  took  the  lifeless  form  from  her  arms,  and 
laying  it  gently  back  upon  the  pillow,  closed  the  eyes 
forever,  and  covered  the  face. 

No  words  save  "  Holy  Mary !"  escaped  the  Don's 
lips,  as  he  quitted  the  room  of  death. 

Inez's  lips  quivered,  and  the  convulsive  twitching 
of  her  features  plainly  indicated  her  grief  at  this 
mournful  parting  with  the  playmate  of  her  youth — 
with  her  affianced  husband.  Yet  the  large  dark 
eyes  were  undimmed;  and  her  tone  calm,  as  though 
the  "  King  of  Terrors  "  were  not  there  in  all  his 
gloom. 

"  Inez,  I  sympathize  with  you  in  this  affliction,  and 
sincerely  regret  that  the  fatal  wound  was  inflicted  by 
one  of  my  nation.  Yet  the  past  is  irretrievable, 
though  painful,  and  many  are,  like  you,  bereft  of 
friends  and  relatives.  Inez,  in  your  hours  of  gloom 
and  sadness  can  you  not  think  of  your  reunion  with 
Mafiuel,  where  death  and  parting  are  unknown  ?" 

She  had  averted  her  head,  and  a  look  of  unutter- 
able bitterness  rested  on  the  pale,  stern  face. 

"  I  thank  you  for  coming,  though  you  could  not 
give  Mafiuel  relief.  It  was  good  and  kind  in  you 
to  try,  and  none  but  Frank  Bryant  would  have 
done  it :  again  I  thank  you.  I  shall  not  forget  this 


INEZ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.         175 

night,  and  you,  Sefior,  shall  be  requited.  I  trust 
you  are  not  suffering  with  your  arm;  why  is  it 
bound  up  ?"  And  she  laid  her  hand  softly  on  it. 

"  I  received  a  slight  though  rather  painful  wound 
during  the  engagement,  and  placed  it  in  a  sling  for 
convenience  and  relief;  but,  Inez,  it  is  well-nigh  day, 
see  how  the  stars  are  waning.  You  need  rest,  so 
good-night,  or  rather  morning;  I  will  see  you  again 
to-morrow."  And  Frank  sought  his  sister,  knowing 
full  well  her  anxiety,  and  wishing  speedily  to  allay  it. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

"  Where  is  the  place  of  meeting  ? 
At  what  hour  rises  the  moon  ? 
I  repair  to  what  ?  to  hold  a  council  in  the  dark 
With  common  ruffians  leagued  to  ruin  states  I" 

— Byron. 

THE  fierce  storm  of  war  had  swept  over  the  town, 
and  quiet  seemed  succeeding.  No  sound  of  strife 
disturbed  the  stillness  which  settled  around.  Many 
had  fallen,  and  the  grass  began  to  bud  on  the  grave 
of  Mafluel;  no  tear  moistened  the  sod  beneath  which 
he  rested.  Inez  often  stood  beside  the  newly-raised 
mound  with  folded  arms,  and  a  desolate,  weary  look 
on  her  beautiful  features,  which  too  plainly  indicated 
a  longing  to  sleep  near  Win.  Yet  she  never  wept; 
for  her  love  for  Nevarro  had  been  that  of  a  cousin, 


176  INEZ  ;   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

perhaps  not  so  fervent.  Still,  now  that  his  steps  no 
longer  echoed  at  their  door,  and  his  deep  voice 
sounded  not  again  on  her  ear,  a  lonely  feeling  stole 
into  her  heart,  and  often  she  crept  from  her  dreary 
home  and  sought  the  church-yard. 

Christmas  had  come  and  gone ;  a  joyless  season  to 
many  saddened  hearts  accustomed  to  hail  it  with 
delight.  The  cousins  had  returned  to  their  home, 
and  were  busily  arranging  their  yard,  and  making 
some  alterations  for  the  New  Year.  Florence  had 
begun  of  late  to  grow  cheerful  again,  and  Mary 
watched,  with  silent  joy,  the  delicate  tinge  come 
back  to  her  marble  cheek.  She  seemed  very  calm, 
and  almost  hopeful;  and  the  spirit  of  peace  descended 
and  rested  on  their  hearth.  Only  one  cause  of  sor- 
row remained — Mary's  declining  health:  yet  she 
faded  so  gently,  and  almost  painlessly,  that  their 
fears  were  ofttimes  lulled. 

Dr.  Bryant  was  still  engaged  in  nursing  the 
wounded,  and  only  came  occasionally,  regretting 
often  that  it  was  not  in  his  power  to  see  them  more 
frequently.  A  change  had  come  over  him  of  late; 
the  buoyancy  of  his  spirits  seemed  broken,  and  his 
gay  tone  of  raillery  was  hushed;  the  bright,  happy 
look  of  former  days  was  gone,  and  a  tinge  of  sadness 
was  sometimes  perceptible  on  his  handsome  face. 
Mrs.  Carlton  had  spoken  on  her  last  visit  of  Frank's 
departure.  She  said  she  hoped  he  would  return 
soon,  as  his  business  required  attention  at  home. 
He  would  not  leave,  however,  as  long  as  his  services 
were  in  requisition. 


INEZ  ;   A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO.  177 

One  Sabbath  morning  Inez  attended  mass — some, 
thing  unusual  for  her  of  late,  for  since  Nevarro's 
death  she  had  secluded  herself  as  much  as  possible. 
She  knelt  in  her  accustomed  place,  with  covered 
head,  seemingly  rapt  in  devotion,  but  the  eyes 
rested  with  an  abstracted  expression  on  the  wall 
beside  her:  her  thoughts  were  evidently  wandering 
from  her  rosary,  and  now  and  then  the  black  brows 
met  as  her  forehead  wrinkled ;  still  the  fingers  slid 
with  mechanical  precision  up  and  down  the  string  of 
beads.  The  services  were  brief,  and  the  few  who 
had  assembled  quietly  departed.  As  Inez  rose  to 
go,  the  Padre,  who  was  hastening  down  the  aisle, 
was  stopped  by  a  Mexican  in  the  garb  of  a  trader. 
They  stood  quite  near,  and  the  hoarse  whisper  of 
the  latter  fell  on  her  listening  ear. 

"  Meet  me  at  the  far  end  of  the  Alameda,  when 
the  moon  rises  to-night." 

"  I  will  be  there  before  you :  is  there  any  good 
news  ?" 

A  finger  was  laid  on  the  lip,  and  a  significant  nod 
and  wink  were  not  lost  upon  the  maiden,  who,  bow- 
ing low  before  the  Padre,  walked  slowly  away.  The 
day  wore  on,  much  as  Sabbaths  ordinarily  do,  yet  to 
her  it  seemed  as  though  darkness  would  never  fall 
again,  and  many  times  she  looked  out  on  the  shadows 
cast  by  the  neighboring  houses  athwart  the  street. 
Twilight  closed  at  last,  and  having  placed  her 
father's  evening  meal  before  him,  she  cautiously 
gazed  down  the  narrow  alley,  and  perceiving  no  one 
stirring,  sallied  forth.  The  stars  gave  a  faint  light, 


178  INEZ  J  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

and  she  hurried  on  toward  the  bridge :  swift  was  her 
step,  yet  noiseless,  and  she  glided  on  like  a  being 
from  another  world,  so  stealthy  were  her  movements. 
The  bridge  was  gained  at  length  and  almost  passed, 
when  she  descried  in  the  surrounding  gloom  a  dark 
figure  approaching  from  the  opposite  direction. 
Closer  she  drew  the  mantle  about  her  form,  and 
slackened  her  rapid  pace.  They  met,  and  the 
stranger  paused  and  bent  eagerly  forward: 

"  Who  goes  there  ?" 

The  voice  was  well  known.  Inez's  heart  gave  a 
quick  bound,  and  she  answered : 

"Inez  de  Garcia!" 

"  Why,  where  are  you  roaming  to  this  dark  night, 
Inez  ?  Are  you  not  afraid  to  venture  out  alone  and 
so  far  from  home  ?" 

"  No,  Doctor,  I  have  no  fears;  I  was  never  a 
coward,  you  know;  and  besides,  who  would  harm 
me,  an  unoffending  woman  ?  Surely  your  people 
will  not  molest  me  ?" 

"  No,  certainly  not.  But,  Inez,  I  hope  you  are 
not  bending  your  steps  toward  the  Alamo  ?" 

"  I  am  a  friend  to  the  Americans,  though  they 
have  taken  the  last  of  my  family  there  was  to  give. 
Yet  I  will  be  true  to  Mary  and  to  you.  Fear  noth- 
ing for  me  and  let  me  pass  on  my  errand." 

He  stood  aside.    "  Buefio  noche,  Sefiorita." 

"  Buefio  noche;"  and  she  glided  on.  "  I  fear  I 
have  lost  time;"  and  hastily  glancing  toward  the 
east,  she  saw  a  faint  light  stealing  up  from  the  hori- 
zon. Redoubling  her  speed  she  pushed  on,  but, 


INEZ;  A   TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  179 

despite  her  efforts,  the  moon  rose  with  uncommon 
brilliance  as  she  approached  the  place  of  rendezvous, 
and  soon  every  object  was  bathed  in  a  flood  of  light. 

The  Alameda,  which  she  had  just  entered,  was  a 
long  double  row  of  majestic  cotton-woods,  which, 
stretching  out  in  the  direction  of  the  Powder- House, 
was  the  favorite  promenade  with  the  inhabitants  of 
the  town.  Previous  to  the  breaking  out  of  the  war 
numbers  were  to  be  seen  here  every  afternoon, 
some  walking,  others  playing  games,  another  group 
dancing,  and  the  graver  portion  of  the  company 
resting  on  the  rude  seats  supplied  for  the  purpose. 
But  their  favorite  resort  was  blood-stained,  for  the 
Alameda  was  the  battle-field  in  the  late  desperate 
conflict,  and  the  smooth  surface  was  torn  and 
trampled  by  the  stamp  of  prancing  cavalry.  Dark 
spots  were  still  visible,  that  were  yet  damp  with  gore. 
Just  to  the  west  rose  the  grim  walls  of  the  fort,  dis- 
tinctly seen  through  the  opening  between  the  trees. 
Beyond  where  the  avenue  ceased,  stood  a  low  irregu- 
lar building  of  stone,  thatched  with  tule. 

Inez  stood  at  the  threshold  and  listened  intently. 
The  place  bore  a  desolate  air,  and  neither  sound  nor 
light  betokened  the  presence  of  a  human  being.  It 
had  long  been  uninhabited,  and  some  declared  it 
was  haunted,  so  that  the  Padre  had  some  time  before 
sprinkled  holy  water  profusely  about,  in  order  to 
drive  away  the  evil  one. 

Cautiously  Inez  tried  the  fastening;  it  swerved 
not  beneath  her  firm,  strong  grasp.  She  shook  it 
slightly;  a  hollow  echo  answered  back.  Entrance 


ISO  INEZ  J  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

was  impossible ;  and  even  as  she  lingered  irresolute, 
the  sound  of  approaching  steps  was  borne  to  her 
listening  ears  by  the  night  wind.  What  should  she 
do  ?  Without  a  moment's  hesitation  she  glided 
swiftly  to  a  cluster  of  chapperal,  and  crouched  low 
among  its  thorny  branches.  Inez  had  scarcely 
secreted  herself,  when  the  figure  of  a  man,  directing 
his  steps  to  the  house  she  had  just  left,  warned  her 
to  keep  quiet.  He  stood  still  a  moment,  then 
knocked.  Drearily  the  knock  resounded  through 
the  empty  building.  Again  was  the  signal  for  ad- 
mission given,  but  no  response  greeted  the  anxious 
tympanums. 

"  Why  in  the  name  of  twenty  devils  don't  you  open 
the  door  >"  and  he  shook  it  violently:  still  no  answer. 

"  I  swear  I'll  batter  it  down,  and  stretch  you  on 
it  to  boot,  if  you  don't  let  me  in.  Why  do  you  keep 
me  waiting  ?  I  am  too  late  already." 

"  Nay,  nay;  restrain  your  impatience,"  said  a  voice 
behind  him. 

"  By  the  saints,  you  are  come  in  good  time,  Padre. 
I  had  well-nigh  made  a  soldier's  entrance." 

"  No  need  of  violence,  Sefior.  Why  could  not  you 
wait  in  Christian  patience  ?" 

"  Look  here,  my  good  friend.  I  come  not  all  the 
way  from  Mexico  to  listen  to  a  lecture ;  and  you  will 
do  well  to  save  your  canting  for  a  better  time  and  a 
worse  man.  So,  Mazzolin,  just  open  the  door  of  this 
.cursed  den." 

Roused  by  the  bold  language  of  the  stranger,  the 
Padre,  though  anxious  to  learn  his  errand,  was  still 


INEZ  J  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  I8l 

true  to  his  policy,  and  could  in  no  measure  compro- 
mise the  dignity  of  his  person. 

"  There  is  no  obligation  resting  on  me  to  do  so 
against  my  will,  and  no  man  shall  bully  or  threaten 
me,  a  priest  of  our  holy  church."  He  had  partially 
opened  the  door,  but  closed  it  again. 

Enraged  beyond  degree,  the  soldier  grasped  what 
little  collar  was  afforded  by  the  habit  he  wore. 

"  You  infernal,  canting  hypocrite !  I  swear  by 
Cortes  111  kick  you  to  a  jelly — I'll  bastinade  you  till 
you  won't  know  the  Virgin  from  the  Devil,  if  you 
don't  instantly  let  me  in,  and  keep  your  lying  tongue 
in  your  Jesuit  head.  Think  you  to  gull  me  with 
your  holy  talk  ?  I  know  you  all :  you  are  a  blessed, 
holy  brotherhood,  truly.  Have  I  not  seen  your 
letters  to  Mexico,  you  canting  scoundrel  ?"  He  shook 
the  Padre  violently  as  he  delivered  this  benediction. 

Now  Father  Mazzolin,  like  many  of  his  sex,  was 
fond  of  supporting  his  dignity,  and  reverence  for  his 
sacred  person  was  especially  inculcated  by  his  teach- 
ings. Yet  when  firmly  met  his  threats  melted  away, 
and,  to  all  appearances,  his  choler  too;  for  he  knew 
full  well  when  to  succumb  and  when  to  oppose  bel- 
ligerent demonstrations.  The  expression  of  rage 
that  darkened  the  face  of  the  soldier,  left  no  doubt 
that  he  would  execute  his  threat  if  further  opposed. 
And  Father  Mazzolin,  fully  satisfied  that  the  organ 
of  reverence  was  altogether  omitted  in  his  cranium, 
thought  it  best  to  comply. 

"  Ha !  you  can  understand  Irish  logic  as  well  as 


1 82  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

the  next  brave  one."  And  he  entered,  followed  by 
the  Padre,  who  ground  his  teeth  with  mortification. 

An  hour  later  they  stood  again  on  the  threshold  in 
earnest  converse,  not  perceiving  the  dark  form  which 
fled,  on  the  reopening  of  the  door,  to  the  old  hiding- 
place.  They  turned  to  go  in  different  directions: 
the  stranger  stopped,  and  calling  to  the  Padre,  desired 
him  to  keep  well  the  secret,  and  in  no  way  divulge 
a  breath  of  their  conference. 

"  It  could  not  be  in  safer  hands,"  was  answered 
back,  and  they  parted. 

A  low,  bitter  laugh  escaped  Inez's  lips  as,  waiting 
tiH  it  was  safe  to  venture  forth,  she  rose  from  the 
chapperal  and  hastened  homeward. 

"  Padre,  cunning  though  you  are,  we  are  well 
mated,  there  are  few  like  unto  you  and  me." 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

**I  simply  tell  thee  peril  is  at  hand, 
And  would  preserve  thee  I" 

—Byron. 

Two  days  later  the  cousins  sat  in  their  front 
room,  Florence  intently  reading,  Mary  watching 
beside  the  couch  of  pain,  bathing  her  aunt's  brow, 
and  chafing  the  hands.  Aunt  Lizzy  was  suffering 
from  violent  nervous  headache:  aH  day  she  had 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  I?3 

tossed  restlessly  about,  and  now,  soothed  by  the 
gentle  touches  on  her  brow,  had  fallen  asleep.  Her 
fingers  had  tightly  clasped  Mary's  small,  thin  hands, 
but  gradually  relaxing  their  hold,  sunk  beside  her. 
Softly  smoothing  back  the  disordered  hair,  the  young 
nurse  failed  to  perceive  the  entrance  of  Dr.  Bryant, 
and  only  looked  up  when  a  beautiful  bouquet  of 
flowers  was  laid  upon  her  lap.  The  feverish  glow 
deepened  on  her  cheek  as  she  warmly  thanked  him. 

"*I  am  glad  you  like  them,  Miss  Irving." 
'*How  could  I  do  otherwise  ?" 

"  My  bunch  is  equally  beautiful,"  cried  Florence, 
holding  it  up  for  inspection.  "  Pray,  Doctor,  how 
came  you  so  thoroughly  acquainted  with  our  differ- 
ent tastes  ?  You  have  selected  admirably." 

"  I  am  gratified  at  succeeding  so  happily  in  my  ar- 
rangement of  them.  But  I  hope  your  aunt  is  not 
seriously  indisposed  ?" 

"  No,  merely  a  bad  nervous  attack,  to  which  she 
is  subject." 

"  Miss  Mary,  as  you  are  free  from  apprehension 
on  her  account,  can  you  take  a  short  ride  this  even- 
ing? I  have  a  gentle  horse  at  the  gate,  and  if  you 
will  trust  yourself  with  me,  I  think  a  good  canter 
will  benefit  you  exceedingly :  will  you  go?" 

Mary  sought  Florence's  eye;  it  brightened  with 
pleasure. 

"Certainly,  Mary;  why  do  you  hesitate?  I  am 
very  glad  Dr.  Bryant  suggested  it ;  I  will  take  good 
care  of  aunt,  and  the  ride  will  doubtless  benefit 
you." 


1 84  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

"  You  are  very  kind,  Doctor;  I  will  only  detain 
you  while  I  change  my  dress."  And  she  withdrew. 

"  Don't  you  think  she  looked  much  better  to- 
day ?"  asked  Florence  anxiously,  as  her  cousin  ieft 
the  room. 

"  She  has  certainly  more  color,  but  I  am  afraid  it 
is  only  a  feverish  glow.  Let  me  entreat  you,  Miss 
Hamilton,  to  watch  over  her  with  the  greatest  care: 
the  slightest  exposure  might  cause  a  return  of  that 
terrible  cough,  and  in  her  feeble  state  I  fear  for  the 
consequences." 

'  She  has  grown  very,  very  thin,  within  the  last 
month ;  but  then,  when  warm  weather  comes  again, 
I  doubt  not  she  will  grow  rosy  and  strong  once 
more."  They  both  sighed  heavily,  as  though  against 
conviction  each  had  striven  to  cheer  the  other. 

Mary  re-entered  the  room  equipped  for  her  ride, 
and  now,  for  the  first  time,  Florence  thought  her 
cousin  beautiful.  Beneath  her  straw  hat  floated 
back  from  her  fair  face  a  luxuriant  mass  of  brown 
curls;  a  bright  blush  mantled  the  delicate  cheek, 
and  the  gentle  blue  eyes  seemed  unusually  large 
and  brilliant.  A  smile  dimpled  round  her  lip  as  she 
met  the  fond  glance  bent  upon  her.  Florence  ten- 
derly clasped  her  hand  a  moment,  then  kissed  her 
warmly,  and  bade  Dr.  Bryant  take  all  care  of  her. 
He  promised  to  do  so,  and  soon  they  had  passed  be- 
yond her  sight.  They  rode  slowly,  lest  Mary  should 
be  too  much  fatigued ;  and  often  the  eyes  of  her 
companion  rested  on  the  frail  but  lovely  being  by 
his  side. 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  185 

"  Which  way  shall  we  ride  ?" 

44  If  you  have  no  preference,  suppose  we  go  to 
San  Pedro  ?" 

*You  could  not  have  selected  more  in  accord- 
ance with  my  own  wishes." 

A  long  silence  ensued,  broken  only  by  the  clatter 
of  their  horses'  hoofs  along  the  gravel  path. 

"  The  prospect  of  leaving  forever  these  "beautiful 
environs,  which  I  have  so  often  admired,  fills  me 
with  inexpressible  regret.  My  heart  clings  to  San 
Antonio,  though  my  residence  here  has  been  very 
brief!*'  said  Dr.  Bryant,  sadly. 

**  Do  you  go  to  return  no  more  ?"  asked  Mary, 
with  averted  head. 

*'  Yes,  most  probably  I  shall  never  see  this  place 
again ;  for  I  wish  to  visit  Europe  so  soon  as  my  bus- 
iness affairs  are  arranged  at  home,  and  on  my  re- 
turn, shall  devote  myself  to  my  profession."  He 
fixed  his  eyes  earnestly  on  her  face  as  he  spoke. 

Slowly  the  head  drooped,  till  the  hat  concealed  her 
features. 

"  We  shall  miss  you  very  much  when  you  are  gone. 
Florry  and  I  feel  deeply  grateful  for  your  continued 
kindness,  and  never — no,  never  shall  we  forget  your 
care  of  my  uncle." 

"  Take  care — take  care ;  you  are  dropping  your 
reins." 

He  gathered  them  up,  and  replaced  them  in  her 
hand. 

"  Thank  you;  I  had  quite  forgotten  them." 

"  Do  you  not  think  it  would  b*  best  for  you  and 


1 86  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

Florence  to  return  to  your  friends  in  Louisiana  ? 
This  is  an  unpleasant  home  for  you." 

"  It  was  my  uncle's  wish  that  we  should  remain 
here,  and  I  know  Florry  would  not  consent  to  leave| 
unless  some  danger  threatened.  We  have  learned 
to  love  San  Antonio  more  dearly  than  any  other 
place,  except  our  old  home;"  replied  Mary,  ear- 
nestly. 

"  By-the-by,  I  had  almost  forgotten  to  mention  that 
I  have  had  a  letter  from  an  old  friend,  who  in- 
quired very  particularly  after  you— -Dudley  Stew- 
art ;  you  knew  him,  I  think,  in  New  Orleans.  His 
letter  is  dat  ed  six  months  ago ;  but  I  am  happy  to 
receive  it  at  all  during»these  unsettled  times." 

"  We  heard  of  his  marriage,"  said  Mary,  in  a  low 
tone,  as  the  image  of  Florence  rose  before  her. 

"  His  marriage!  Oh,  no!  you  must  be  mistaken. 
He  would  most  certainly  have  mentioned  it,  for  we 
are  old  and  intimate  friends." 

"  It  was  reported  that  he  had  married  his  cousin." 

"  Ah!  is  that  all  ?  I  am  not  much  surprised  that 
you  should  have  heard  that,  for  before  I  left  home 
it  was  quite  current.  His  widowed  mother  was  very 
anxious  to  make  the  match ;  but  Stewart  assured  me 
he  would  never  comply  with  her  wishes,  as  he  had 
fully  resolved  never  to  wed  a  woman  he  did  not  ten- 
derly love;  and  though  quite  pretty,  Ellen  «is  not 
sufficiently  intellectual  to  attract  such  a  man." 

"  Are  you  quite  sure  of  this,  Dr.  Bryant  ?"  said 
Mary,  in  a  quick,  eager  tone. 

"  Certainly;  I  had  it  from  his  own  lips." 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  1 87 

"  Oh!  I — "  She  stopped  short,  and  her  cheek 
crimsoned,  as  she  met  the  piercing  glance  of  his  dark 
eye  bent  upon  her  face.  Her  small  hands  trembled 
so  that  the  reins  quivered,  and  she  closed  her  eyes 
for  a  moment,  while  the  glow  fled  from  her  cheeks, 
leaving  them  pale  as  marble. 

He  caught  her  hand,  and  steadied  her  in  her  sad- 
dle. 

"  Forgive  my  inattention,  Miss  Irving,  you  are  not 
strong  enough  to  extend  your  ride.  Your  face  is 
very  pale,  and  you  look  fatigued." 

"  Yes,  let  us  go  home — home."  Her  voice  was 
low  and  faltering,  and  she  with  difficulty  restrained 
the  tears  which  sprung  to  her  eyes. 

They  turned  their  horses'  heads,  and  neither  at- 
tempted to  remove  the  restraint  which  both  expe- 
rienced. They  entered  the  town,  and  then  seeing 
her  hands  glide  quickly  to  her  side,  he  gently  said : 

"  I  am  afraid  we  are  riding  too  fast  for  you." 

Her  lips  writhed  for  a  moment  with  acute  pain; 
but  with  a  faint  smile,  which  touched  him  with  its 
sadness,  she  replied: 

"  I  am  better  now — the  pain  has  almost  left  me. 
I  am  very  sorry  to  trouble  you  so  much,  Dr.  Bry- 
ant." 

"  Trouble !"  he  murmured,  as  if  communing  with 
his  own  heart.  "  I  see  yon  do  not  know  me,  nor 
ever  will;  for  none  have  truly  read  my  soul  or  sym- 
pathized." A  look  of  bitterness  passed  over  his 
face,  and  a  sterner  expression  rested  there  than 
Mary  had  ever  marked  before.  She  knew  not  what 


1 88  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

to  reply,  for  she  could  not  comprehend  the  change, 
and  even  as  she  pondered,  he  pointed  to  the  western 
sky,  and,  much  in  his  usual  tone,  asked: 

"  Don't  you  think  the  sunsets  here  exceed  any  you 
ever  beheld  elsewhere?" 

"  In  brilliancy  they  certainly  do.  Yet  I  love  still 
better  the  soft  tints  which  often  linger  till  the  stars 
come  out.  I  think  they  blend  and  harmonize  more 
beautifully  with  the  deep  blue  of  the  zenith  than  any 
I  have  seen  before,  and  I  have  watched  sunsets 
from  my  childhood." 

"  You  are  right ;  I  have  noticed  in  more  northern 
latitudes  a  very  perceptible  difference  in  the  appear- 
ance of  the  firmament.  The  moon,  for  instance,  on 
cold,  clear  nights,  presents  a  silvery,  glittering  disc, 
but  the  soft  mellow  light  of  a  southern  clime  is 
wanting." 

While  he  spoke,  the  figure  of  a  woman  emerged 
from  a  house  near  by,  and,  softly  approaching  Mary's 
horse,  laid  her  finger  on  her  lips,  and,  pressing  a 
piece  of  paper  into  her  hand,  returned  as  silently  as 
she  came.  Dr.  Bryant  turned  his  head  toward 
Mary  as  he  finished  speaking,  and,  catching  a  glimpse 
of  the  retreating  form,  looked  inquiringly  at  her. 

"  I  believe  it  was  Inez,  though  the  face  was 
entirely  concealed.  She  did  not  speak,  but  gave 
me  this  paper,"  and  Mary  unrolled  the  note. 

"  MARINITA, 

"  Santa  Anna  has  crossed  the  Rio  Grande  with 
eight  thousand  men.     I  warn  you  of  your  danger. 


INEZ  ;   A   TALB  OF  THE   ALAMO.  189 

You  can  get  horses  now,  for  the  Padre  can  not  con- 
trol your  people.  There  are  brave  men  in  the 
Alamo,  tell  them  of  their  danger.  Again  I  say,  fly 
quickly  from  San  Antonio.  INEZ." 

With  a  groan,  Mary  handed  him  the  paper.  In 
silence  he  perused  and  returned  it  to  her. 

"  Tell  me,  was  it  Inez  who  warned  you  before  ?" 

"  Yes,  she  told  me  we  incurred  unknown  dangers 
by  remaining  here."  He  mused  for  several  mo- 
ments. 

"  Ah !  I  can  understand  it  all  now.  Several  nights 
ago,  returning  from  the  Alamo,  I  met  her  on  the 
bridge  alone;  she  seemed  excited,  I  thought,  and 
impatient  at  meeting  me,  for  I  questioned  her  ram- 
bling so  late." 

"  Inez  is  a  warm  friend,  and  what  she  advises  I 
feel  almost  bound  to  do,  for  she  is  not  timid,  and 
only  real  danger  rouses  her  apprehension." 

"  Eight  thousand  men !  and  not  two  hundred  to 
man  the  Alamo.  Inez  is  right;  this  is  not  a  proper 
place  for  you.  We  will  go,  as  we  once  decided,  to 
Washington ;  and  when  you  are  in  safety,  I  will  re- 
turn and  lend  my  efforts  to  the  feeble  garrison." 

They  reached  the  gate,  and  he  gently  lifted  the 
frail  form  from  the  saddle ;  and,  drawing  her  arm 
through  his  led  her  to  the  house.  As  they  entered, 
he  bent  his  head  and  said,  in  a  low  tone: 

"  Tell  me  candidly,  are  you  able  to  undergo  the 
fatigue  incident  to  this  journey?  I  fear  you  are 
not." 


INEZ  i  A  TALE   OF  THE   ALAMO. 

"  Yes,  I  shall  perhaps  grow  stronger;  at  any  rate, 
if  you  do  not  change  your  mind,  let  no  fears  for  me 
influence  you." 

When  leaving,  he  said  it  was  probable  that  all 
would  be  in  readiness  for  their  departure  within  a 
couple  of  days,  as  he  wished  to  see  them  secure,  and 
then  return. 

"  Mrs.  Carlton  will  accompany  us  when  she  learns 
this  terrible  news  ?"  said  Mary,  inquiringly. 

"  Oh  yes;  I  can  not  consent  for  her  to  remain,  and 
besides,  Mr.  Carlton  has  been  anxious  for  some  time 
regarding  his  family." 

Florence,  having  read  the  note,  fully  approved 
their  promptly  removing,  and  all  necessary  prepara- 
tions were  made  for  immediate  departure. 

Mary  longed  inexpressibly  to  impart  to  her  cousin 
what  she  had  learned  respecting  Mr.  Stewart,  but 
shrank  instinctively  from  reviving  hopes  which 
might  never  be  realized — hopes  which  Florence  had 
long  since  crushed  and  cast  out  of  her  heart  as  dead. 
With  an  earnest  prayer  that  her  cousin  might  yet  be 
blessed  and  happy,  Mary  determined  not  to  broach 
the  subject,  at  least  for  a  time.  Dr.  Byrant  without 
delay  apprised  the  garrison  of  the  rumor  which  had 
reached  him,  and  a  courier  was  immediately  dis- 
patched to  head-quarters  for  reinforcements  suffi- 
cient to  defend  this  important  fortress — this  key  of 
the  state — from  the  powerful  force  now  advancing 
to  assault  it.  Horses  were  supplied  with  alacrity, for 
he  had  made  many  and  warm  friends,  and  two  large 
tents,  together  with  a  baggage- wagon,  were  readily 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  igi 

granted  to  one  who  so  nobly  contributed  to  the  relief 
of  the  sick,  wounded  and  dying. 

At  length  every  arrangement  was  completed,  and 
the  next  morning  appointed  for  their  departure. 
Aunt  Lizzy  had  objected  at  first,  but  speedily  be- 
came reconciled  when  Dr.  Bryant  painted,  in  a 
graphic  manner,  the  horrors  which  were  about  to 
ensue. 

As  the  shades  of  evening  came  gently  on,  the  girls 
set  out  for  Mrs.  Carlton's,  as  from  her  dwelling  they 
commenced  their  journey.  Aunt  "Lizzy  remained  to 
give  some  final  direction,  and  then  came  a  sorrowful 
parting  with  their  servants,  one  of  whom  took  Mary 
in  her  arms  and  bade  God  bless  her,  while  the  tears 
rolled  over  her  wrinkled  face.  Mary  could  not  re- 
press her  own,  and  she  sobbed  convulsively.  Dr. 
Bryant,  who  had  come  over  for  them,  laid  his  hand 
on  the  shoulder  of  the  true-hearted  negress,  and 
said: 

"  Why,  Aunt  Fanny,  you  must  not  excite  Miss 
Irving  ;  she  is  not  strong,  you  know,  and  has  a  long 
ride  before  her  to-morrow." 

"  Oh  yes,  Doctor,  it  will  do  well  enough  for  you 
to  tell  me  not  to  cry,  but  I  can't  help  it,  for  I  love 
her  as  if  she  was  my  own  child,  and  if  I  thought  to 
see  her  again  I  should  not  grieve  so  much ;  but  I 
saw  her  mother  before  her,  and  I  know  how  she 
grew  pale  and  thin,  and  then  took  to  the  sofa,  and 
never  rose  up  till  she  was  carried  to  her  grave ;  and 
can't  I  see  that  blessed  child  going  just  like  her? 
Oh!  it's  no  use  talking  to  me;  she  ain't  long  for  this 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

world,  and  it's  hard — yes  it's  hard  for  her  to  die 
away  from  old  Fanny !"  and  she  covered  her  face 
with  her  apron,  and  sobbed  alond. 

Mary  wiped  her  own  tears  quickly  away,  and  tak- 
ing the  hand  of  her  old  friend,  led  her  back  to  the 
kitchen.  For  several  moments  her  companions 
waited  anxiously  for  her;  and  soon  she  advanced 
slowly  to  meet  them.  Frank  drew  her  arm  through 
his,  and  sadly  they  walked  away.  Passing  the  gate, 
Mary  paused  and  looked  out  on  the  river,  where  she 
had  so  often  sat  at  this  hour;  and  sad  though  sweet 
associations,  infinite  in  number,  crowded  upon  her 
mind. 

How  calm  and  beautiful  all  nature  seemed,  as 
though  arrayed  in  its  loveliest  garb  to  claim  her 
affection,  that,  in  after  years,  the  memory  of  that 
western  home  might  steal  gently  up  amidst  surround- 
ing gloom,  to  charm  away  the  anguish  of  some  bitter 
hour,  and  soothe  the  saddened  spirit.  Her  heart 
was  inexpressibly  touched,  and  she  averted  her 
head  to  conceal  the  expression  of  keen  sorrow  which 
rested  on  her  face. 

"  This  view  of  the  San  Antonio  has  often  struck 
me  as  particularly  fine,"  said  Dr.  Bryant,  turning  to 
Florence,  whose  pale  cheek  alone  attested  regret  at 
leaving  her  home. 

"Yes,  I  know  none  superior;  and  our  favorite 
ramble  was  along  this  bank,  and  down  the  river 
side." 

"  Its  windings  are  multitudinous,  yet  how  grace- 
ful every  curve:  and  then,  the  deep  blue  of  its 


INEZ;   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  193 

waters  adds  not  a  little  to  the  beauty  of  the  whole. 
But  we  have  not  leisure  to  admire  it  now,  for  your 
cousin  must  not  be  chilled,  and  the  wind  blows 
freshly  from  the  north." 

He  stepped  on  as  he  spoke,  but  feeling  the  small 
hands  clasped  over  his  arm,  looked  earnestly  down 
into  the  pale  face  at  his  side.  Mary  was  bend- 
ing a  last,  long  look  on  house  and  tree  and  river; 
as  they  walked  on  the  different  objects  passed  be- 
yond her  view,  and  then  a  faint  moan  escaped  her 
lips.  She  met  the  anxious  gaze  of  her  friend,  and 
replied  to  its  silent  questioning: 

"  Forgive  what  doubtless  seems  a  great  weakness. 
You  and  Florry  cannot  sympathize  with  me  now. 
You  will  both  return  ere  long,  but  my  eyes  have 
rested  for  the  last  time  on  each  loved  object.  I 
have  dreaded  this  parting  from  the  home  that  has 
grown  so  dear  to  me — but  the  pang  is  over." 

Her  deep  blue  eyes  rested  on  his  face,  and  touch- 
ingly  sad  was  the  expression,  as  she  swept  back  the 
clustering  hair  from  her  brow.  The  lips  quivered, 
as  of  late  they  often  did  when  she  was  excited. 
Florence  did  not  hear  her  words,  for  she  had  crossed 
the  street;  but  Frank's  heart  throbbed  violently  as 
he  listened  to  her  low,  sad  tone.  Laying  his  hand 
on  hers,  that  were  tightly  clasped,  he  pressed  them 
gently,  and  said,  in  a  slightly  faltering  voice: 

"  For  Florence's  sake — for  mine — for  your  own? 
do  not  give  way  to  such  gloomy  forebodings !  Your 
depressed  spirits  will  act  injuriously  on  your  health. 
Let  me  beg  you  to  place  no  confidence  in  Aunt 


194  INEZ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

Fanny's  words  at  parting;  she  was  herself  scarce 
conscious  of  their  import." 

"  I  have  no  gloomy  forebodings,  no  apprehension 
of  the  future,  and  generally  no  depressed  spirits; 
but  I  know  full  well  that  my  life  is  gradually  wast- 
ing away,  slowly,  gently,  and  almost  without  pain. 
I  am  sinking  to  an  early  tomb.  Yet  I  would  not 
have  it  otherwise  if  I  could.  Death  has  long  since 
lost  all  terrors  for  me ;  I  have  no  fear — all  is  peace 
and  quiet.  I  am  paining  you.  Forgive  me,  Dr. 
Bryant;  but  knowing  that  you  and  Florry  were  anx- 
ious about  me  I  thought  it  best  to  tell  you  that  I 
am  fully  aware  of  my  danger,  if  so  I  can  term  what 
I  would  not  avert." 

A  shudder  crept  over  the  strong  man  as  he  looked 
down  at  the  calm,  colorless  face  of  her  who  spoke 
so  quietly  of  death,  and  of  quitting  forever  the 
scenes  she  loved  so  truly. 

"  I  cannot — will  not  believe  you  are  so  ill.  You  will 
grow  stronger  when  we  leave  this  place,  and  a  year 
hence,  when  quite  well  again,  you  will  beg  pardon 
for  the  pain  you  have  given  me." 

A  faint  smile  played  round  the  thin  lips,  and  in 
silence  they  proceeded  to  Mrs.  Carlton's. 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  19$ 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

"  Who's  here  besides  foul  weather  ?" 

— Shakspeare, 

FAR  away  stretched  the  prairie,  bounded,  ocean- 
like,  only  by  the  horizon;  the  monotony  occasionally 
relieved  by  clumps  of  aged  live  oaks,  which  tossed 
their  branches  to  and  fro  in  summer  breezes  and  in 
wintry  blasts,  and  lent  a  mournful  cadence  to  the 
howlings  of  the  tempest.  Now  and  then  a  herd  of 
deer,  lifting  proudly  their  antlered  heads,  seemed  to 
scorn  danger  from  the  hand  of  man,  as  they  roamed 
so  freely  over  the  wide,  desolate  waste  which  pos- 
sessed no  visible  limits.  And  groups  of  cattle,  start- 
ing at  the  slightest  sound,  tossed  their  horns  in  de- 
fiance, and  browsed  along  the  mesquit,  in  many 
places  so  luxuriant  as  well-nigh  to  conceal  their 
forms.  The  day  had  been  unusually  warm  for  Jan- 
uary, and  the  sun  beamed  down  with  a  sickening 
intensity  which  made  the  blood  tingle  in  the  veins. 
Toward  noon  the  sky  assumed  a  dull,  leaden  cast, 
and  light  flakes  of  cloud,  like  harbingers  of  evil, 
scudded  ominously  overhead.  The  sun  passed  the 
zenith,  and  a  low  sighing  breeze  swept  meaningly 
across  the  wide  waste,  even  as  the  wail  of  lost  spirits 
floats  out  on  the  midnight  air,  and  then  is  hushed 
forever. 

The  cattle  that  stood  leisurely  cropping  about, 
and  now  and  then  moving  a  few  paces,  lifted  their 
Vol.  6  I— Evan* 


196  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

heads,  snuffed  the  air,  and,  with  a  simultaneous  low- 
ing, started  at  full  speed  to  the  timbered  tracks, 
where  they  were  wont  to  resort  for  shelter  from  the 
winds  of  winter.  On,  on  they  rushed,  till  in  the  dis- 
tance one  might  fancy  them  a  quantity  of  beetles,  or 
other  insects,  dotting  the  surface  before  them.  Soon 
not  a  vestige  remained  of  the  flying  herd,  and  happy 
it  was  for  them  they  made  good  their  retreat,  and 
gained  a  place  of  refuge  ere  the  "  norther  "  burst  in 
all  its  keenness  on  the  unprotected  plain.  Wildly 
the  piercing  blasts  whistled  through  the  trees,  and 
rushed  furiously  on,  unimpeded  by  the  forest,  which 
in  more  eastern  lands  present  a  formidable  barrier 
to  their  progress.  The  rain  began  to  fall  heavily, 
when  a  small  cavalcade  sought  the  protection  of  a 
clump  of  oaks,  by  placing  the  leafy  boughs  between 
themselves  and  the  beating,  driving  torrents.  The 
party  consisted  of  several  ladies  and  gentlemen,  two 
children,  and  as  many  servants!  the  latter  in  a 
wagon,  the  remainder  on  horseback.  With  all  pos- 
sible speed  the  gentlemen  dismounted,  and,  tightly 
buttoning  their  great  coats  about  them,  proceeded 
to  stretch  two  tents,  by  means  of  poles  and  pins, 
carried  in  the  wagon. 

Night  closed  in,  and  finding  a  sheltered  spot 
beneath  the  trees,  a  large  fire  was  kindled,  which 
threw  its  ruddy  light  into  the  surrounding  tents,  and 
illumined  the'entire  grove.  The  horses  were  picketed 
out,  almost  within  reach  from  the  tents,  and  the 
wagon  containing  their  stores  drawn  so  near  as,  in 
some  degree,  to  shelter  them.  The  servants  pre- 


INEZ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.          197 

pared  the  evening  meal — simple,  it  is  true,  yet  en- 
joyed far  more  than  a  sumptuous  repast  of  Indian 
delicacies  and  untold  ragouts,  eaten  without  the 
sauce  of  hunger  produced  by  their  long  ride.  More 
than  a  week  had  elapsed  since  leaving  San  Antonio, 
and  Mary  had  borne  better  than  they  dared  to  hope 
the  fatigue  of  the  journey. 

To-night,  however,  she  lay  exhausted  on  her  pallet, 
the  thin  cheek  bright  with  fever  :  gently  she  declined 
all  that  was  proffered,  and  her  hollow  cough  chased 
the  smile  from  the  lips  of  her  friends.  Dr.  Bryant 
knelt  beside  her,  and  taking  one  hot  hand  in  his 
own,  asked,  in  a  low,  anxious  voice,  if  she  suffered. 

Turning  away  her  face,  she  said — "  Oh  no,  not 
much.  There  is,  however,  such  a  painful  throbbing 
about  my  heart  I  can  scarcely  breathe.  Am  I  not 
feverish  ?  "  she  continued. 

"Yes;"  and  he  placed  his  fingers  on  the  pulse, 
beating  violently.  "  I  am  afraid  you  have  taken 
severe  cold — the  day  has  been  so  inclement."  And, 
with  a  somewhat  unsteady  hand,  he  administered  a 
potion. 

"  Don't  feel  uneasy  about  me,  Doctor,  I  shall  be 
better  when  I  sleep."  And  she  turned  away,  and 
wearily  closed  her  eyes. 

When  the  camp-fire  burned  low,  and  all  slumbered 
save  Mary,  who  could  not  calm  her  feverish  excite- 
ment, and  lay  wide  awake,  she  fancied  she  heard 
steps  around  the  tent.  All  was  silent ;  then  again 
came  the  sound  ;  and  raising  herself,  she  thought 
she  perceived  some  one  standing  near  the  entrance. 


198  INEZ  J  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

The  figure  disappeared,  and  then  followed  a  rum- 
bling, stamping,  kicking,  as  though  the  horses  were 
verily  bewitched.  "  The  Indians!"  thought  Mary; 
and  quickly  rising,  she  threw  a  black  mantle  round 
her,  and  creeping  to  the  door  of  the  tent,  peeped 
out.  The  horses  still  seemed  restless,  stamping  and 
snorting,  and  she  thought  she  could  softly  reach  the 
adjoining  tent  and  rouse  the  gentlemen,  knowing 
that  their  arms  were  in  readiness.  She  had  just 
stepped  out  of  her  own  tent,  and  stood  out  of  doors, 
when  she  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  dark,  muffled  figure 
walking  toward  her.  The  rain  had  ceased,  but  it 
was  very  dark,  and  only  by  the  aid  of  the  fire-light, 
now  grown  dim,  she  perceived  it.  A  cold  shudder 
crept  over  her,  as,  raising  her  eyes  to  the  blackened 
sky  but  an  instant,  she  sprang  forward  toward  the 
place  where  she  fancied  the  gentlemen  were  sleep- 
ing. A  hand  was  laid  on  her  arm  and  a  deep  voice 
sounded  in  her  ear : 
.  "  Be  not  alarmed,  Miss  Mary,  I  am  here!" 

She  trembled  so  that  she  could  scarcely  stand. 
He  supported  her  a  moment,  ere  she  replied  in  a 
whisper — 

"  What  causes  the  disturbance  to-night  ?" 
"  I  feel  assured  there  are  Indians  about,  though 
you  need  fear  nothing,  for  they  are  not  in  sufficient 
number  to  attack  us.  There  are  four  men  in  our 
party — nearly  a  dozen  muskets,  besides  my  pistols, 
and  plenty  of  ammunition.  Were  you  one  of  the 
timid  sort,  I  should  not  venture  to  tell  you  my  ap- 
prehensions: but  I  know  that  you  are  not.  I  have 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  199 

not  slept,  or  even  lain  down;  and  a  while  ago,  I 
heard  the  sound  of  hoofs  approaching.  Taking  my 
pistols,  I  went  ronnd  to  the  horses,  and  had  not 
waited  many  moments  before  I  saw  two  figures,  evi- 
dently reconnoitring  and  planning  the  abduction  of 
our  horses,  who  seemed  much  alarmed.  I  suppose 
the  intruders  must  have  seen  me,  for  they  suddenly 
wheeled  off  and  galloped  away." 

"  Perhaps  there  is  a  party  not  far  distant,  for 
whose  assistance  they  have  o^one." 

M  Possibly,  though  I  think  not ;  but  you  must  not 
stand  on  this  wet  ground."  He  led  her  to  the  tent, 
and  seating  himself  near  the  door,  continued: 

"  I  shall  not  sleep  to-night,  and  rest  assured  you 
will  be  most  carefully  guarded.  You  were  imprudent 
to  venture  out  on  such  a  night." 

"  What !  when  I  thought  there  was  danger,  and 
none,  save  myself,  aware  of  it  ?" 

"  Did  you  think  I  could  rest,  knowing,  as  I  do, 
how  you  are  suffering  ?" 

44 1  never  imagined  you  were  up,  or  watching,  for 
I  heard  no  sound  near  me." 

"  Well,  no  matter;  sleep,  if  y.  u  can, and  dream  of 
peace,  and  quiet,  and  perfect  happiness."  He  sighed 
heavily  as  he  spoke,  and  rising,  renewed  the  fire. 

Mary  lay  watching  him  as  he  paced  to  and  fro  in 
front  of  the  burning  logs — his  arms  folded  across  his 
chest,  and  his  cap  drawn  ov  r  the  brow:  gradually 
a  sense  of  utter  weariness  stole  over  her,  and  she 
slept. 

At  dawn  a  bustle  commenced  in  the  camp,  and 


200  INEZ;    A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

preparation  were  made — first  for  breakfast,  then  for 
moving. 

When  Mary  came  out,  her  pale  face  and  wearied 
look  attracted  Mrs.  Carlton's  attention. 

"My  dear  child,  I  am  afraid  you  are  scarcely  able 
to  travel  to-day ;  did  you  not  sleep  well  ?" 

"Not  so  soundly  as  I  could  have  wished,"  she  said, 
passing  her  hand  over  her  brow,  as  if  to  remove 
some  painful  thought. 

Dr.  Bryant  acquainted  them  with  the  adventure 
of  the  night,  suggesting,  that  in  future  some  of  the 
party  should  watch,  as  security  for  their  horses ;  and 
all  agreed  that  it  was  advisable. 

"How  readily  one  might  suppose  this  a  gypsy  en- 
campment. Miss  Hamilton  and  myself  are  quite 
dark  enough  to  favor  the  illusion,  and  Ellen  and  Mr. 
Carlton  would  pass  as  of  gypsy  descent;  but  what 
would  they  think  of  Miss  Mary?  She  is  decidedly 
anti-gypsy  in  her  appearance." 

"I  can  tell  you,  Uncle  Frank,"  cried  Elliot,  clap- 
ping his  hands ;  "they  would  take  Miss  Mary  for  an 
angel  that  came  to  our  tent,  like  the  one  that  came 
down  to  see  Abraham." 

"Unfortunately,  angels  never  appear  in  the  form 
of  a  lady,  Elliot ;  so  you  must  tax  your  ingenuity  to 
dispose  of  me  in  a  different  manner,"  said  Mary, 
smiling  gently  on  the  noble  boy  beside  her. 

"Indeed,  I  would  sooner  think  you  ought  to  be  an 
angel  than  any  gentleman  I  know,  or  lady  either; 
"don't  you  think  so  too,  Uncle  Frank?" 

"Certainly  I  do ;  but,  Elliot,  you  should  not  have 


INEZ;  A   TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  2OI 

made  me  say  so  in  Miss  Florence's  presence.  You 
forget  that  she  is  also  a  young  lady." 

"  No,  I  don't,  uncle,  and  I  ask  her  pardon  if  I  was 
rude ;  but  I  heard  you  say  Miss  Mary  was  an  angel, 
and  though  I  like  Miss  Florence  very  much  indeed, 
I  can't  help  thinking  so  too." 

Dr.  Bryant's  cheek  flushed,  and  he  glanced  quickly 
at  Mary.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Carlton  and  Florence 
laughed  good-naturedly;  and  laying  his  hand  on  the 
boy's  head,  Frank  said: 

"  My  very  promising  nephew,  you  will  never  be 
accused  of  want  of  candor  if  you  grow  up  in  your 
present  spirit." 

Mary  drew  the  child  to  her,  and  whispered  in  his 
ear: 

"  Your  uncle  meant  that  I  should  soon  be  in 
Heaven,  Elliot ;  and  I  hope  it  will  not  be  very  long 
before  I  am  an  angel.  Don't  you  see  how  thin  and 
pale  I  am  ?" 

Elliot's  eyes  filled,  as  he  looked  earnestly  at  the 
gentle  girl,  so  wasted  of  late,  and  throwing  his  arms 
about  her  neck,  he  hid  his  face  on  her  shoulder,  and 
murmured : 

"  Oh!  you  must  not  go  from  us — we  can't  spare 
you  even  to  God !  Why  does  he  want  to  take  you  ? 
He  has  plenty  of  angels  already  around  him! 
Mother  and  uncle  and  I  had  almost  as  soon  die  our- 
selves as  see  you  go  away  forever." 

None  heard  what  passed  between  them;  but  Mrs. 
Carlton  saw  a  look  of  pain  on  Mary's  pure  white 
brow,  and  gently  drawing  her  son  away,  changed  the 


202  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

conversation  by  asking  if  it  would  not  be  better  for 
Mary  to  ride  awhile  in  the  wagon. 

**  I  am  afraid  she  would  find  the  jolting  rather  too 
much  for  her.  However,  it  will  answer  as  a  change, 
and  by  driving  myself,  I  can  avoid  many  inequali- 
ties. So,  Miss  Irving,  make  up  your  mind  to  relin. 
quish  your  Babieca  at  least  for  to-day." 

"  You  are  very  kind,  Dr.  Bryant,  but  I  greatly 
prefer  your  riding  as  usual.  Indeed  you  need  not 
look  so  incredulous.  I  won't  allow  you  to  make 
such  a  sacrifice." 

"  I  was  not  aware  that  I  was  making  any  sacri- 
fice," he  coldly  answered,  and  turned  away. 

Mary's  lips  quivered  with  internal  pain,  but  she 
offered  no  further  opposition. 

All  was  in  readiness  for  moving  on.  Dr.  Bryant 
stood  arranging  Florence's  bridle,  and  bantering  her 
on  her  inattention  to  the  reins.  She  laughed  in  her 
turn. 

"  Indeed,  Doctor,  don't  you  think  me  a  capital 
horsewoman  ?  you  will  certainly  admit  it,  after 
being  vanquished  in  a  race  ?" 

"  Really,  Miss  Florence,  I  rather  think  the  credit 
due  to  your  fine  horse  than  to  your  skill  as  a  rider." 

"  Ah,  incorrigible  as  usual,  I  see,  Doctor!"  and  she 
rode  off  to  join  Mr.  Carlton. 

Mr.  Carlton  had  placed  Mary  in  the  wagon,  and 
carefully  arranged  her  shawls  that  she  might  rest 
easily.  Frank  quietly  seated  himself,  and  drove  on. 

"  I  shall  not  exert  myself  in  the  least  to  entertain 
you,  so  you  need  not  expect  it ;  for  having  very 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  2O3 

politely  told  me  you  did  not  desire  my  company,  I 
shall  not  disturb  you  with  my  chatter,  I  promise  you, 
and  take  this  opportunity  to  inform  you  that  my  tyn> 
panums  are  at  your  service  the  remainder  of  the 
day." 

He  glanced  over  his  shoulder  at  the  frail  form 
nearly  buried  beneath  the  weight  of  shawls  and 
cloaks  wrapt  about  her.  She  smiled,  and  laid  her 
head  on  her  arm:  as  she  did  so,  he,  looking  at  her, 
failed  to  perceive  a  large  stone  in  the  track,  and  the 
wheels  passing  directly  over  it,  caused  the  wagon  to 
jolt  most  unmercifully. 

Florence  was  just  in  the  rear,  and,  unable  to  con- 
trol her  mirth,  laughed  outright  as  Frank  and  Mary 
bounced  up  and  down;  and,  riding  up  to  them, 
merrily  asked  "  if  Mary  duly  apprec  ated  her  good 
fortune  in  having  so  careful  and  scientific  a  driver." 

Not  a  little  amused,  yet  scarce  able  to  laugh,  the 
latter  replied  that  "  she  did  indeed  congratulate  her- 
self on  the  change  of  drivers,  as  she  would  not  have 
survived  the  day  had  it  been  otherwise." 

Frank  joined  heartily  in  their  merriment. 

"  Miss  Hamilton,"  said  he,  "  if  you  only  knew  what 
caused  me  to  overlook  that  unfortunate  stone,  you 
would  be  more  lenient  in  your  crilicisms. " 

"  I  am  very  sure  you  will  adduce  every  possible 
reason  in  your  own  favor,  sir,  and  therefore  feel  no 
sympathy  for  your  carelessness,"  she  retorted. 

"  Really  you  make  me  out  as  incorrigible  a  self- 
excuser  as  the  heroine  of  Miss  Edgeworth's  juvenile 
tales;  though  even  she  chanced  upon  a  good  excuse 


2O4  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

occasionally.  Come,  try  me,  and  see  what  I  can 
urge  in  my  own  defense." 

"  Well,  then,  I  ask  you,  &  la  Godfrey,  what  you 
were  thinking  of  when  you,  who  had  an  ailing  lady 
in  your  cart,  drove  directly  over  the  largest  rock  you 
have  seen  in  a  wewk  ?" 

"  In  the  first  place,  I  did  not  see  it.  You  need 
not  look  quite  so  incredulous;  I  assure  you  I  did 
not." 

"  That  is  very  evident,  but  no  excuse  at  all. 
Pray,  where  were  your  eyes  ?" 

"  Where  nature  intended  them  to  be,  I  suppose." 

"  Nonsense !   why  didn't  you  use  them  ?" 

"  Because  I  have  not  the  faculty  of  looking  two 
ways  at  once,  like  Brahma;  and  my  optics  were  ir- 
resistibly drawn  in  an  opposite  direction." 

"  A  truce  to  all  such  excuses!" 

"  Patience,  Miss  Florence,  hear  me  only  once  more. 
The  reason  is,  that  I  was  looking  at  your  cousin  over 
there,  and  calculating  the  chances  of  her  surviving 
suffocation." 

"  There  is  certainly  some  danger.  Pray,  Mary, 
why  wrap  up  so  tlosely?  uEolus  has  closed  the 
mouth  of  his  cave,  and  the  warring  winds  are  se- 
curely pent  in  their  prison." 

"  Are  you  not  very  much  edified,  Miss  Mary  ?  I 
should  beg  pardon  for  such  a  waste  of  time  and  talk, 
if  I  were  not  aware  that 

'A  li.Je  nonsense  now  and  then, 
Is  relished  by  the  wisest  men.' w 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  2O5 

As  Mary  made  no  reply,  he  turned  around  and  re- 
garded her  earnestly.  Her  hat  had  fallen  back  from 
the  face,  which  rested  on  his  black  cloak.  Every 
vestige  of  mirth  fled  from  his  countenance  as  they 
gazed  on  the  sleeping  girl.  The  feverish  flush  had 
left  the  cheek,  now  perfectly  wan;  the  dark  brown 
hair  clung  on  the  pure,  beautiful  brow,  and  beneath 
the  closed  eyes  were  dark  circles,  traced  by  mental 
suffering.  The  expression  of  the  face  was  perfectly 
calm,  yet  a  wearied  look,  as  though  longing  to  be  at 
rest,  lingered  there.  So  motionless  she  lay,  that 
Frank  hastily  placed  his  hand  on  hers  to  feel  if 
warmth  and  vitality  remained.  Slowly  and  faint 
came  the  pulsations,  and,  as  he  watched  her  death- 
like slumber,  his  cheek  grew  pale,  a  look  of  unutter- 
able anguish  settled  on  his  noble  brow,  and  the  finely 
cut  lips  were  tightly  compressed,  as  with  some  acute 
though  hidden  pain.  Florence  slowly  returned  to 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Carlton — no  smile  passed  her  lips  the 
remainder  of  the  day;  she  seemed  now,  for  the  first 
time,  to  realize  her  cousin's  danger,  and  naught 
could  divert  her  mind  from  this  new  grief. 

Dr.  Bryant  bent  his  head  upon  his  breast,  and 
murmured  in  saddened  tones:  "  Oh,  Mary!  Mary! 
how  gladly  would  I  give  all  I  possess  on  earth  to  see 
you  strong  and  well  again." 


2O6  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO, 


CHAPTER   XXVI. 

"  And  therefore  my  heart  is  heavy 
With  a  sense  of  unquiet  pain, 
For  but  Heaven  can  tell  if  the  parted 
Shall  meet  in  the  earth  again. 

"  With  Him  be  the  time  and  the  season 

Of  our  meeting  again  with  thee : 
Whether  here,  on  these  earthly  borders, 
Or  the  shore  of  the  world  to  be." 

— Carey. 

ONE  day  our  party  had  traveled  further  than  on 
any  previous  occasion:  long  and  tedious  was  the 
ride,  still  they  pushed  on,  hoping  to  reach  some 
stream  ere  the  tents  were  pitched  for  the  night,  as  an 
abundant  supply  of  pure  fresh  water  was  essential  to 
the  comfort  of  their  camp.  In  the  metaphorical 
strain  of  a  certain  writer — "Phoebus  drove  his  steeds 
to  be  foddered  in  their  western  stables."  Slowly 
twilight  fell  upon  the  earth,  and,  one  by  one,  the 
lamps  of  heaven  were  lit.  The  wagon  in  which  Dr. 
Bryant  and  Mary  rode  was  rather  in  the  rear  of  the 
party,  as  the  riders  pressed  anxiously  forward.  The 
cool-night  wind  blew  fresh  upon  the  fevered  brow 
of  the  invalid,  and  gently  lifted  and  bore  back  the 
clustering  curls. 

"  I  am  very  much  afraid  you  will  take  cold :"  and 
Dr.  Bryant  wrapped  his  cloak  carefully  about  her. 

"  Thank  you:"  and  she  sank  back  in  its  heavy 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  2O/ 

folds,  and  looked  up  to  the  brilliant  firmament,  where 
the  stars  glittered,  like  diamonds  on  a  ground  of 
black  velvet,  in  the  clear,  frosty  air. 

"  Orion  has  culminated ;  and  how  splendidly  it 
glows  to-night,  I  think  I  never  saw  it  so  brilliant." 

"  Perhaps  it  appears  so  from  the  peculiar  position 
whence  you  view  it.  You  never  observed  it  before 
from  a  wagon,  in  a  broad  prairie,  with  naught  inter- 
vening between  the  constellation  and  yourself  save 
illimitable  space,  though  I  agree  with  you  in  think- 
ing it  particularly  splendid.  I  have  ever  regarded 
it  as  the  most  beautiful  among  the  many  constella- 
tions which  girt  the  heavens." 

"  I  have  often  wondered  if  Cygnus  was  not  the 
favorite  of  papists,  Dr.  Bryant." 

"  Ah !  it  never  occurred  to  me  before,  but,  since 
you  mention  it,  I  doubt  not  they  are  partial  to  it. 
How  many  superstitious  horrors  are  infused  into 
childish  brains  by  nurses  and  nursery  traditions !  I 
well  remember  with  what  terror  I  regarded  the 
Dolphin,  or,  in  common  parlance,  *  Job's  Coffin,'  hav- 
ing been  told  that,  when  that  wrathful  cluster  was 
on  the  meridian,  some  dreadful  evil  would  most  in- 
evitably befall  all  who  ventured  to  look  upon  it ;  and 
often,  in  my  boyhood,  I  have  covered  my  face  with 
my  hands,  and  asked  its  whereabouts.  Indeed  I  re- 
garded it  much  as  JEneas  did  Orion,  when  he  says: 

'  To  that  blest  shore  we  steered  our  destined  way, 
When  sudden  dire  Orion  roused  the  sea ! 
All  charged  with  tempests  rose  the  baleful  star, 
And  on  our  navy  poured  his  watery  war.' 


208  INEZ  ;   A  TALE  OF  THE   ALAMO. 

The  contemplation  of  the  starry  heavens  has  ever 
exerted  an  elevating  influence  on  my  mind.  In 
viewing  its  glories,  I  am  borne  far  from  the  puerilities 
of  earth,  and  my  soul  seeks  a  purer  and  more  noble 
sphere." 

"  Your  quotation  from  Virgil  recalled  a  passage 
in  Job — , '  Seek  him  that  maketh  the  seven  stars  and 
Orion,  and  turneth  the  shadow  of  death  into  morn- 
ing.' Oh!  hqw  inimitably  sublime  is  inspired 
language — and  '  turneth  the  shadow  of  death  into 
morning.'  And  how  comforting  the  promise  con- 
veyed," said  Mary,  earnestly. 

"  Miss  Irving,  don't  you  admire  Cassiopeia  very 
much  ?"  said  Dr.  Bryant,  wishing  to  turn  the  current 
of  her  thoughts.  "  I  think  it  very  beautiful,  particu- 
larly when  it  occupies  its  present  position,  and,  as  it 
were,  offers  to  weary  travelers  so  inviting  a  seat. 
Yet  often  I  am  strangely  awed,  in  gazing  on  the 
group  so  enveloped  in  unfathomable  mystery.  Who 
may  say  when  another  of  its  jewels  shall  flicker  and 
go  out  ?  And  when  may  not  our  own  world  to  other 
planets  be  a  '  Lost  Star  ?'  How  childish  associa- 
tions cling  to  one  in  after  years.  I  never  looked  up 
at  Cassiopeia,  without  recalling  the  time  when  my 
tutor  gave  me  as  a  parsing  lesson  the  first  lines  of 
the  *  Task  ' — literally  a  task  to  me  (mind  I  do  not 
claim  the  last  as  original,  for  it  is  a  plagiarism  on 
somebody,  I  forget  now  who).  My  teacher  first 
*  read  the  passage  carefully  over,  explaining  each  idea 
intended  to  be  conveyed,  and  at  the  conclusion 
turned  to  an  assistant,  and  remarked  that  '  with 


INEZ  ;   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  2OO, 

Cassiopeia  for  a  model,  he  wondered  chairs  were  not 
earlier  constructed.'  I  wondered  in  silence  what 
that  hard  word  could  signify  ?  and  at  length  sum- 
moned courage  to  ask  an  explanation.  A  few  nights 
afterward,  visiting  at  my  father's,  he  took  me  out, 
pointed  to  the  constellation,  and  gave  the  origin  of 
the  name,  while,  to  my  great  joy,  I  discovered  the 
resemblance  to  a  chair.  Ah !  that  hour  is  as  fresh 
in  my  memory  as  though  I  stood  but  last  night  by 
his  side  and  listened  to  his  teachings." 

"  Yes,  who  will  deny  the  magic  influence  of  associ- 
ation ?  After  all,  Dr.  Bryant,  it  is  not  the  intrinsic 
beauty  of  an  object  that  affords  us  such  delight,  but 
ofttimes  the  memory  of  the  happy  past,  so  blended 
with  the  beauty  viewed  as  scarcely  to  be  analyzed 
in  the  soothing  emotions  which  steal  into  the  heart. 
Such  a  night  as  this  ever  reminds  me  of  the  beauti- 
ful words  of  Willis,  in  his '  Contemplations ;'  and,  like 
Alethe,  I  often  ask,.'  When  shall  I  gather  my  wings, 
and,  like  a  rushing  thought,  stretch  onward,  star  by 
star,  up  into  heaven  ?'  " 

A  silence  ensued  for  several  moments,  and  then 
the  cry  of  "  Water!"  "  water!"  fell  refreshingly  on 
the  ears  of  the  wearied  travelers,  and  the  neighbor- 
ing stream  was  hailed  as  joyfully  as  was  in  olden 
time  the  well  of  Zem-Zem. 

Soon  the  tents  were  pitched,  and  a  bright  crack- 
Kng  fire  kindled.  Florence,  declaring  she  was  too 
much  fatigued  for  supper,  threw  herself  on  her  pallet. 
Aunt  Lizzy  and  Mrs.  Carlton  were  busily  unpacking 
some  of  their  utensils,  and  Mary,  closely  wrapt  up, 


2IO  INEZ  ;   A  TALE   OF  THE   ALAMO. 

stood  by  the  blazing  logs,  thinking  how  cheerful  Ij 
ruddy  light  made  every  object  seem,  and  wonder- 
ing if,  after  all,  the  Ghebers  were  so  much  to  blame. 
Mr.  Carlton  joined  her;  and  after  inquiring  how  she 
bore  their  very  fatiguing  ride,  remarked  that  in  a 
few  more  days  their  journeyings  would  be  over. 

"  I  shall  almost  regret  its  termination.  This  mode 
of  traveling  seems  very  pleasant  to  me,  and  you 
who  are  strong  and  well,  must  enjoy  it  much  more." 

Just  then  the  sound  of  approaching  hoofs  caused 
her  to  look  toward  their  wagon ;  and  she  perceived 
two  men  mounted,  one  in  the  act  of  descending, 
while  Dr.  Bryant  advanced  quickly  to  meet  him. 

Mr.  Carlton  left  her.  Silently  she  looked  on, 
wondering  who  the  strangers  could  possibly  be,  when 
the  words  fell  with  startling  distinctness  on  her 
listening  ear: 

"  Dudley  Stewart !  do  my  eyes  deceive  me  ?" 

"  Frank  Bryant !  is  it  possible  I  meet  you  here  ?" 

The  tones  of  the  last  speaker  were  too  familiar  to 
be  mistaken.  She  trembled  from  head  to  foot  as 
the  past  rose  before  her.  Her  first  thought  was  of 
Florence. 

"  Oh,  if  he  is  married,  this  meeting  will  be  terri- 
ble !"  and  her  heart  throbbed  violently  as  the  gen- 
tlemen approached  her.  Scarce  conscious  of  her 
movements,  she  advanced  to  meet  Dr.  Bryant,  whose 
arm  was  linked  in  that  of  the  new  comer.  They 
met :  the  fire-light  glowed  on  the  face  of  both. 

"  Mr.  Stewart !"  and  the  wasted  hand  was  ex- 
tended. 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  211 

"  Mary  Irving !  or  is  this  an  illusion  ?"  Tightly 
the  hand  was  clasped. 

"It  is  I — your  old  pupil,  though  so  altered,  I  won- 
der not  that  you  fail  to  recognize  me."  She  lifted 
her  eyes  and  met  Dr.  Bryant's  gaze,  deep  and  pierc- 
ing, as  though  he  were  reading  her  inmost  soul. 
Mr.  Stewart  looked  long  at  the  face  turned  toward 
him. 

"  Frank,  you  did  not  tell  me  she  was  with  you ! 
Oh,  how  changed — how  wasted  you  are!  But  what 
means  this  black  dress  ?"  and  his  fingers  clutched 
her  mourning  gown,  while  his  deep  tone  faltered. 
Mary  drew  closer  to  his  side,  and  murmured: 

"  Florry  is  well ;  but  my  uncle  has  been  taken 
from  us."  Her  head  sunk  on  her  bosom  as  she 
spoke. 

"  Where  is  Florence  ?"  and  he  tightly  clasped  her 
hand  between  his  own. 

A  shudder  crept  over  Dr.  Bryant,  who  had  not 
heard  their  words,  and  he  walked  quickly  away. 

"  Florry  is  in  the  tent.  Mr.  Stewart,  we  heard 
that  you  were  married;  can  this  be  true  ?" 

"  No,  no !     Did  your  cousin  credit  the  report  ?" 

44  Yes;  and  ere  you  make  yourself  known,  let  me 
in  some  degree  prepare  her  for  the  meeting." 

So  saying,  she  sought  Florence,  and  asked  if  she 
were  sleeping. 

44  No,  Mary;  can  I  do  any  thing  for  you?"  and 
she  raised  her  head. 

44  Yes,  Florry,  come  with  me — I  want  to  speak  to 
you." 


212  INEZ  ;   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

Her  cousin  accompanied  her  to  the  door,  and 
standing  so  that  the  tent  intervened  between  them 
and  Mr.  Stewart,  Mary  laid  her  hand  on  Florence's 
shoulder,  and  said : 

"  I  have  just  learned,  Florry,  that  Mr.  Stewart  is 
not  married." 

"  Mary,  Mary!  why  touch  a  chord  which  ever 
vibrates  with  the  keenest  agony?  There  is  no  hap- 
piness for  me  on  earth — I  have  known  that  for  long, 
and  now  I  am  striving  to  fix  my  thoughts,  and  all  o£ 
hope  that  remains  on  heaven." 

Mary  linked  her  arm  in  Florence's,  and  gently 
drawing  her  forward,  replied : 

"  God  has  not  promised  heaven  as  the  price  of 
every  earthly  joy  and  comfort.  Can  you  not  still 
hope  for  happiness  ?" 

"  Mary,  I  am  parted  forever  from  him  whom  I 
have  loved  so  devotedly;  yet  I  cease  to  repine.  I 
know  my  lot,  and  I  will  pass  through  life  alone,  yes, 
alone,  without  a  murmur." 

"  Not  so,  Florence — my  own  treasured  Florence  !'• 

She  turned  quickly,  and  was  clasped  to  the  heart 
of  him  she  had  sworn  to  love  alone. 

"  Am  I  dreaming  ?"  said  Florence,  gazing  eagerly 
up  into  the  noble  face  before  her.  He  lifted  his 
cap  from  his  brow,  and  bent  his  head  that  the  light 
might  fall  full  upon  it.  A  gleam  of  perfect  joy  ir- 
radiated her  beautiful  face,  and,  leaning  her  head 
on  his  shoulder,  she  whispered:  "  Forgive  me — for  I 
doubted  you." 

He  bent,  and  sealed  her  pardon  with  a  long  kiss. 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO.  2 1 3 

Mary  stole  away  to  Mrs.  Carlton  to  impart  the 
good  news;  Dr.  Bryant  had  already  communicated 
it.  Warmly  she  sympathized  with  them  in  again 
meeting  an  old  friend;  but  Mary  heeded  not  her 
words,  for  her  eyes  were  riveted  on  Frank's  stern 
brow  and  slightly  curling  lip.  A  mist  rose  before 
her,  and  catching  for  support  at  the  tent,  she  would 
have  fallen,  had  not  his  strong  arm  encircled  her; 
and  soon  she  lay  motionless  in  her  tent.  He  stood 
and  looked  on  her  a  moment,  then  knelt  and 
clasped  the  cold  hands.  Mary  had  not  swooned, 
though  well-nigh  insensible,  and  a  low  moan  of  an- 
guish escaped  her  lips,  colorless,  and  writhing  with 
pain. 

"  Can  I  do  nothing  for  you  ?" 

"  No,  thank  you;  only  do  not  tell  Florry  and  Mr. 
Stewart  I  am  ill.  It  would  only  damp  the  joy  of 
their  meeting." 

He  left  her,  and  met  the  lovers  as  they  sought  the 
remainder  of  the  party.  He  understood  at  a  glance 
the  position  of  affairs,  and  with  the  sad  conviction 
that  Mary  loved  Mr.  Stewart,  and  loved  him  in  vain, 
he  strove  to  repress  his  emotion  and  appear  as 
usual. 

Florence  withdrew  her  hand  from  Mr.  Stewart's 
clasp,  and,  with  a  deep  blush,  passed  Frank  in  order 
to  reach  the  tent.  He  placed  himself  before  it. 

"  Miss  Hamilton,  I  can't  allow  any  one  to  disturb 
your  cousin;  she  is  almost  exhausted  by  our  long 
ride,  and  I  forbid  all  company,  as  she  needs  rest  and 
quiet." 


214  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

"  I  will  not  disturb  her  in  the  least,  I  assure  you, 
Doctor."  But  he  persisted,  and  she  was  forced  to 
form  one  of  the  circle  that  now  gathered  round  the 
fire 

Mr.  Stewart,  in  answer  to  Dr.  Bryant's  inquiries, 
replied  that  he  had  long  felt  anxious  to  visit  San 
Antonio,  but  had  been  detained  at  home  by  impor- 
tant business  till  within  a  few  weeks,  when  he  set  out 
for  Austin,  and  obtaining  there  a  sort  of  guide  and 
companion,  was  hastening  on,  hoping  to  reach  the 
former  place  ere  the  arrival  of  the  Mexican  forces. 

"  Having  heard,"  continued  he,  "  that  Mr.  Hamil- 
ton's death  had  left  his  family  somewhat  unpro- 
tected, I  felt  particularly  anxious  on  their  account. 
Seeing  your  camp-fire,  attracted  us  in  this  direction, 
and  happy  am  I  to  meet  so  many  old  friends." 

To  Florence  he  had  been  far  more  explicit,  de- 
tailing the  causes  which  produced  a  most  fortunate 
change  in  his  circumstances,  and  his  immediate  de- 
termination to  seek  her  in  her  Western  home. 

"  You  will  return  with  us  to  Washington  then, 
Stewart,  as  we  possess  the  treasure  you  are  in 
search  of  ?" 

"  Yes,  if  none  of  the  party  offers  any  objection," 
replied  he. 

'*  I  don't  know  that  any  feel  disposed  to  act  so  un- 
gratefully: suppose  we  inquire,  however.  Miss 
Hamilton,  have  you  any  objections  to  receiving  as 
an  escort  and  protector,  this  amiable  cavalier,  who 
has  wandered  so  far  from  home  to  offer  his  ser- 
vices ?" 


INEZ  ;   A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO.  21$ 

"  Frank,  it  is  hardly  fair  to  make  her  speak  for  the 
party;  some  may  differ  with  her,  on  so  important  a 
point." 

"  You  seem  quite  certain  as  to  her  sentiments  on 
this  subject.  Upon  my  word,  Miss  Florence,  if  I 
were  you,  I  should  most  assuredly  take  this  occa- 
sion to  teach  him  a  little  humility ;  for  instance,  just 
tell  him  it  makes  no  difference  with  you — that  it  is 
perfectly  immaterial." 

"  In  following  your  advice,  Doctor,  the  responsi- 
bility will  be  inevitably  transferred  to  yourself;  and 
I  must  thank  you  for  so  politely  relieving  me." 

"  I  see  no  reason,  Stewart,  why  you  should  not 
join  our  party,  and  lend  your  assistance  toward  en- 
livening the  tedious  hours  yet  in  store  for  us; 
though  only  a  few  more  days  of  travel  remain,  thank 
Heaven." 

"  One  would  suppose,  from  the  fear  of  ennui  which 
seems  to  cloud  your  future,  that  Mary  and  I  had 
not  succeeded  so  happily  as  we  imagined,  in  our 
efforts  to  entertain  you." 

"  Pardon  me,  Miss  Florence,  if  I  have  failed  duly 
to  appreciate  your  kind  efforts :  though  candor  com- 
pels the  avowal,  that  I  was  not  aware  any  extraor- 
dinary exertion  was  made  in  my  behalf." 

"  Really,  Frank,  I  should  say  you  have  made  con- 
siderable progress  in  raising  yourself  in  your  own 
estimation  since  last  I  heard  you  converse.  Mrs. 
Carlton,  I  am  afraid  this  climate  is  unfavorable  for 
the  growth  of  at  least  two  of  the  cardinal  virtues." 

"  Your   insinuation  is   contemptible  because  ut- 


2l6  INEZ  ;   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

terly  without  grounds.  Miss  Florence,  I  appeal  to 
yon,  as  worthy  the  privilege  of  acting  as  nmpire  in 
this  important  discuision.  Have  you  ever  observed 
aught  in  my  conduct  indicating  a  want  of  humil- 
ity ?" 

"  Unfortunately,  Doctor,  should  I  return  an  an- 
swer in  your  favor,  it  would  be  at  the  expense  of  a 
virtue  equally  entitled  to  pre-eminence." 

"  To  be  very  candid,  Miss  Hamilton,  I  must  re- 
turn thanks  for  her  disinterested  and  very  flattering 
decision." 

Here  the  conversation  was  interrupted  by  a  call 
to  the  evening  meal,  and  gladly  they  obeyed  the  wel- 
come summons. 

Florence  glancing  round  perceived  the  absence 
of  her  cousin,  and  inquired  the  cause. 

"  I  dare  say  she  is  asleep,  poor  child,"  said  Aunt 
Lizzy. 

"  She  is  trying  to  rest,  Miss  Hamilton,  and  I  would 
not  advise  any  interruption.  She  needs  quiet,  for 
she  was  sorely  tried  by  this  day's  fatigue,"  observed 
Dr.  Bryant. 

"  I  am  afraid  so,"  replied  Florence,  an  anxious  look 
again  settling  on  her  face.  "  Oh,  I  wish  on  her  ac- 
count we  could  reach  a  place  of  rest  and  safety.  I 
fear  she  has  failed  in  strength  since  leaving  San  An- 
tonio." 

"How  sadly  changed  she  has  become:  had  she  not 
spoken  in  her  old,  familiar  tones,  I  should  not  have 
known  her.  I  earnestly  hope  there  is  nothing  serious 
in  her  attack,  and  that  she  will  soon  regain  her 


INEZ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  2 1/ 

former  bloom :  it  pains  me  to  see  her  so  altered/' 

said  Mr.  Stewart. 

"  She  can  not  possibly  improve  while  subjected  to 
the  fatigues  of  this  journey.  I  feared  she  was  scarce 
able  to  endure  it,"  answered  Frank. 

The  conversation  turned  on  more  agreeable  topics, 
and  soon — by  all  but  Frank,  who  could  not  forget 
her  look  of  anguish — she  was  for  a  time  forgotten. 

Mary  heard  from  her  couch  of  suffering  the  cheer- 
ful blending  of  voices,  though  nothing  distinct 
reached  her  ear ;  and  as  none  approached  to  soothe 
her  by  affectionate  inquiries,  a  sense  of  neglect  stole 
over  her.  But  too  habitually  accustomed  to  judge 
gently  of  others  and  forget  herself,  it  passed  quickly 
away.  She  knelt  on  her  pallet,  and  clasping  her  thin 
hands,  raised  her  heart  to  God,  in  the  low,  feeble 
tone  of  one  well-nigh  spent : 

"  My  God,  thou  readest  my  heart?  Thou  knowest 
how,  day  by  day,  I  have  striven  to  love  thee  more 
and  serve  the  better.  Yet,  oh,  Father  of  mercies! 
my  soul  is  tortured  with  unutterable  agony!  Oh! 
on  the  verge  of  the  tomb,  my  heart  still  clings  to 
earth  and  its  joys.  Look  down  in  thy  mercy  upon 
me,  and  help  me  to  fix  my  thoughts  on  heaven  and 
thee.  For  long  I  have  known  the  vanity  of  my  hope, 
and  the  deceitf ulness  of  human  things :  yet  I  could 
not  tear  away  the  pleasing  image,  and  turn  to  thee 
alone  for  comfort.  Oh,  may  peace  be  my  portion 
the  few  days  I  have  to  live,  and  when  death  comes, 
be  thou  with  me,  my  God,  to  comfort  and  take  me 
soon  to  my  home  above." 


31 8  INEZ  J  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

She  sank  back  in  very  weariness.  "  Oh,  Frank, 
how  could  you  so  mistake  me  ? — you  whom  I  have 
loved  so  long,  how  could  you  believe  I  loved 
another  ?" 

In  the  clear  sunny  light  of  morning,  how  cheerful 
all  things  looked;  and  to  a  heart  at  peace  with  God, 
nature  seemed  rejoicing.  The  deep  blue  vault  arch- 
ing illimitably  above — the  musical  murmuring  of 
the  creek,  as  it  rushed  along  its  rocky  bed — the  mos- 
quit,  bent  and  glittering  with  its  frosty  mantle, 
blended  with  the  blazing  camp-fire  and  the  busy 
hum  of  preparation  for  the  day,  stole  pleasingly  into 
the  heart.  All  the  party,  save  Mary,  stood  about 
the  fire,  warming  their  fingers  and  chatting  on  the 
various  occurrences  of  their  long  journey.  All 
paused  to  welcome  the  invalid,  as  she  joined  them 
with  a  slow,  feeble  step ;  yet  she  looked  better  than 
she  had  done  since  leaving  her  home.  Restlessly 
she  had  tossed  on  her  hard  couch,  and  now  the 
hectic  flush  mantled  the  thin  cheek  and  brightened 
the  deep  blue  eyes.  The  warm  congratulations  of 
her  friends  on  her  improved  appearance  brought  a 
sad  smile  to  her  lip,  and  the  expression  of  Dr. 
Bryant's  countenance  told  her  that  he  at  least  realized 
her  danger.  Never  had  Florence  looked  more  beau- 
tiful, as  the  clear  cold  air  brought  the  glow  to  her 
cheek,  added  to  the  effect  of  her  mourning  dress  and 
the  expression  of  quiet  happiness,  imparting  an  in- 
describable charm  to  her  lovely  features. 

"  As  you  now  stand,  Miss    Florence,  looking  so 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO.  219 

earnestly  toward  the  east,  you  seem  to  me  a  perfect 
realization  of  Willis's  Jeptha's  Daughter: 

"  '  She  stood  before  her  father's  gorgeous  tent, 
To  listen  for  his  coming.     Her  loose  hair 
Was  resting  on  her  shoulder,  like  a  cloud 
Floating  around  a  statue,  and  the  wind 
Just  swaying  her  light  robe,  revealed  a  shape 
Praxiteles  might  worship : 
Her  countenance  was  radiant  with  love : 
She  looked  to  die  for  it — a  being  whose 
Whole  existence  was  the  pouring  out 
Of  rich  and  deep  affections.'" 

As  he  looked  upon  her,  these  lines  were  uttered 
half  unconsciously;  and  then  turning  to 'Mary,  he 
gently  asked  if  he  might  speak  what  was  passing  in 
his  mind. 

"  Certainly,  Frank — continue  your  quotation;  the 
lines  never  seemed  so  beautiful  before;"  said  Mr. 
Stewart  glancing  at  Florence  as  he  spoke. 

"Doubtless  not,  Stewart,  because  never  so  ap-, 
pliod.  Miss  Hamilton,  your  cousin  looks  more  as  did 
the  Jewish  maiden  at  close  of  evening: 

"  '  Her  face  was  pale,  but  very  beautiful;  her  lip 
Had  a  more  delicate  outline,  and  the  tint 
Was  deeper.     But  her  countenance  was  like  the 
Majesty  of  angels.' " 

•*  Dr.  Bryant,  is  it  possible  you  so  far  forget  your- 
self and  previously  expressed  opinions,  as  to  make 
quotations  ?  I  thought  you  a  sworn  foe  to  the 
practice." 

"  On  ordinary  occasions,  I  am ;  and  you  may  rest 
Vol.  6  J— Evans 


220          INEZ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

assured  it  is  the  last  time  I  commit  such  an  absurdity 
by  a  camp  fire.  I  think  you  once  asked  me  my 
objection — will  you  hear  it  now  ?  When  I  was  quite 
young,  I  one  day  read  an  anecdote  of  the  celebrated 
Greek  professor,  Dr.  Person,  which  gave  me  a 
strong  bias  against  quotations,  particularly  locating 
them,  which  necessarily  follows.  Person  was  once 
traveling  in  a  stage-coach,  when  a  young  Oxonian, 
fresh  from  college,  was  amusing  some  ladies  with 
quite  a  variety  of  small  talk,  smong  other  things  a 
quotation  from  Sophocles,  as  he  said.  A  Greek  quo- 
tation in  a  stage-coach  roused  Person,  who  half 
slumbered  in  a  quiet  corner.  *  Young  gentleman/ 
said  he, '  I  think  you  indulged  us,  just  now,  with  a 
quotation  from  Sophocles;  I  don't  happen  to  re- 
member it  there.' — 'Oh,  sir,'  rejoined  the  tyro, '  the 
quotation  is  word  for  word,  and  in  Sophocles  too.' 
The  professor  handed  him  a  small  edition  of  So- 
phocles, and  requested  him  to  point  out  the  passage. 
After  rummaging  about  for  some  time,  he  replied  : 
'  Upon  second  thought  the  passage  is  in  Euripides.' 
'  Then,'  said  Porson,  handing  him  a  similar  edition 
of  Euripides, '  perhaps  you  will  be  so  kind  as  to  find 
it  for  me  in  this  little  book.'  Our  young  gentleman 
returned  unsuccessfuly  to  the  search,  with  the  very 
pleasant  cogitation  of  '  Curse  me,  if  ever  I  quote 
Greek  again  in  a  stage-coach.'  The  tittering  of  the 
ladies  increased  his  confusion,  and  desperate  at  last, 
he  exclaimed — '  Bless  me,  how  dull  I  am;  I  remem- 
ber now  perfectly  that  the  passage  is  in  ^Eschylus.1 
The  incorrigible  professor  dived  again  into  his  ap- 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  221 

patently  bottomless  pocket,  and  produced  an  edition 
of^Bschylus;  but  the  astounded  Oxonian  exclaimed, 
*  Stop  the  coach ,  Halloa !  coachman,  let  me  out  in- 
stantly; there  is  a  fellow  inside  here  that  has  got  the 
whole  Bodleian  library  in  his  pocket.  Let  me  out, 
I  say — it  must  be  Porson  or  the  devil !'  Now  pre- 
vious to  reading  this  anecote,  I  must  confess  to  quite 
a  penchant  for  quotations,  but  I  assure  you  a  full  year 
elapsed  ere  I  ventured  on  another;  and  for  a  long 
time  the  ghost  of  our  gentleman  appeared,  spectre- 
like,  before  me,  whenever  I  attempted  one." 

When  the  merriment  subsided,  Mr.  Stewart  asked 
if  it  was  not  of  this  same  professor  that  a  phreno- 
logist remarked,  on  examining  his  skull,  that  "  the 
most  important  question  was,  how  the  ideas  found 
access  to  the  brain — once  inside,  and  there  are  very 
solid  reasons  to  prevent  their  getting  out  again." 

"  Yes,  the  same.  Craniologists  admit,  I  believe, 
that  his  was  the  thickest  skull  ever  examined;  and 
it  is  related  that  when  he  could  no  longer  articulate 
English,  he  spoke  Greek  with  fluency." 

In  a  few  moments  the  camp  was  broken  up,  and 
they  proceeded  on  their  way.  Mary  cast  a  longing 
glance  toward  her  horse,  now  mounted  by  one  of  the 
servants,  and  was  taking  her  seat  in  the  wagon, 
when  Dr.  Bryant  said: 

"  Would  you  like  to  try  your  horse  a  little  while 
this  morning  ?  If  it  proves  too  fatiguing,  you  can 
return  to  the  wagon." 

"  I  should  like  it  very  much,  if  I  felt  strong  enough, 
but  I  could  not  sit  upright  so  long.  Doctor,  wiB 


222  INEZ  J  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

you  be  so  kind  as  to  ride  my  horse  for  me  to-day, 
and  let  William  drive  ?" 

"  Certainly,  if  you  prefer  it ;  but  may  I  venture  to 
ask  your  reason  ?" 

"  You  have  long  been  separated  from  your  friend, 
and  naturally  wish  to  be  with  him.  Do  not,  on  my 
account,  remain  behind  the  party,  as  you  are  forced 
to  do  in  driving  the  wagon,  but  join  Florence  and 
Mr.  Stewart,  who  seem  in  such  fine  spirits  this 
beautiful  morning.  I  feel  too  weary  and  feeble  to 
talk,  and  William  will  take  good  care  of  me." 

He  fixed  his  dark  eyes  mournfully  on  her  face; 
she  could  not  meet  his  gaze,  and  her  head  sunk  upon 
her  bosom. 

"  Believe  me,  Miss  Irving,  every  other  pleasure  is 
second  to  that  of  watching  over  and  being  with  you. 
If,  in  the  proposed  change,  my  feelings  alone  are  to 
be  consulted,  allow  me  to  remain  with  you." 

"  Thank  you,  Dr.  Bryant,  you  are  very  kind  to 
remember  me  so  constantly;  my  only  object  was  to 
promote  your  enjoyment  of  the  day." 

They  rode  for  some  distance  in  silence. 

"  This. is  my  birth-day;  and  how  little  I  fancied, 
on  the  last  anniversary,  that  I  should  be  so  situated," 
said  Dr.  Bryant,  as  though  speaking  unconsciously. 

"  How  one's  feeling  change  with  maturer  years.  I 
remember  well  that,  in  my  childhood,  the  lapse  of 
time  seemed  provokingly  slow,  and  I  wondered  why, 
from  year  to  year,  it  seemed  so  very  long.  The  last 
three  years  of  my  life,  though,  somewhat  checkered, 
have  flown  too  quickly  away.  A  month  ago,  I 


IWEZ  ;   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  223 

would  willingly  have  recalled  them,  but  they  are 
lost  in  the  ocean  of  eternity,  only  to  be  remembered 
now  as  a  changing,  feverish  dream,"  Mary  replied. 

"  Miss  Irving,  without  the  benign  and  elevating 
influence  of  Hope,  that  great  actuating  principle 
from  the  opening  to  the  close  of  life,  what  a  dreary 
blank  our  existence  would  prove.  In  childhood  it 
gorgeously  gilds  the  future ;  the  tints  fade  as  maturity 
gains  that  future,  and  then  it  gently  brightens  the 
evening  of  life,  while  memory  flings  her  mantle  of 
witchery  over  the  past,  recalling,  in  hours  of  sad- 
ness, all  of  joy  to  cheer  the  heart,  and  banishing  for- 
ever the  phantoms  of  terror — the  seasons  of  gloom 
that  once  haunted  us." 

"  Yes,  how  appropriately  has  the  great  bard  of 
Time,  termed  Hope  '  silver-tongued.'  And  then,  its 
soothing  accents  are  felt  and  acknowledged  in  the 
darkest  hour  of  human  trial.  When  about  to  sever 
every  earthly  tie — when  on  the  eve  of  parting  with 
every  object  rendered  dear  by  nature  and  association 
— when  the  gloomy  portals  of  the  silent  tomb  open  to 
receive  us,  then  comes  Hope  to  paint  the  joys  of 
heaven.  Our  reunion  with  those  we  have  loved 
and  lost — perfect  freedom  from  sin — the  society  of 
angels,  and  the  spirits  of  the  just  made  perfect ;  the 
presence  of  our  Saviour,  and  an  everlasting  home  in 
the  bosom  of  our  God." 

A  look  of  unutterable  peace  and  joy  settled  on  the 
face  of  Mary  as  she  finished  speaking  and  sank  back, 
her  hands  clasped,  and  her  eyes  raised  as  though  in 
communion  with  the  spirits  above. 


224  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

Dr.  Bryant's  eyes  rested  with  a  sort  of  fascination 
on  her  countenance. 

"  You  have  this  hope ;  yes,  already  your  soul  turns 
from  earth  and  its  vanities  to  the  pure,  unfailing 
fount  of  heavenly  joy.  Oh !  that  I,  like  you,  could 
soon  find  peace  and  perfect  happiness!  I  have 
striven  against  the  bitter  feelings  which  of  late  have 
crept  into  my  heart;  still,  despite  my  efforts,  they 
gather  rapidly  about  me.  I  look  forward,  and  feel 
sick  at  heart.  Turbid  are  all  the  streams  of  earthly 
pleasures,  and  fully  now  I  realize  those  lines,  which 
once  seemed  the  essence  of  misanthropy — 

'  I  thought  upon  this  hollow  world, 
And  all  its  hollow  crew.' 

For  a  time  I  found  delight  in  intellectual  pursuits, 
but  soon  wearied  of  what  failed  to  bring  real  com- 
fort in  hours  of  trial." 

"  You  need  some  employment  to  draw  forth  every 
faculty :  in  a  life  of  active  benevolence  and  useful- 
ness, this  will  be  supplied.  Do  not  give  vent  to  feel- 
ings of  satiety  or  ennui ;  your  future  should  be  bright 
— no  dangers  threaten,  and  many  and  important 
duties  await  you  in  life.  God  has  so  constituted  us, 
that  happiness  alone  springs  from  the  faithful  dis- 
charge of  these.  Every  earthly  resource  fails  to 
bring  contentment,  unless  accompained  by  an  active, 
trusting  fatih  in  God,  and  hope  of  blessedness  in 
heaven.  Wealth,  beauty,  genius  are  as  naught ;  and 
fame,  that  hollow,  gilded  bauble,  brings  not  the 
promised  delight,  and  an  aching  void  remains  in  the 


INEZ  J  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

embittered  heart.  One  of  our  most  talented  authors, 
now  seated  on  the  pinnacle  of  fame,  assures  us  that 

'  The  Sea  of  Ambition  is  tempest  tost, 
And  your  hopes  may  vanish  like  foam.' 

•  •  »  *  • 

'The  Sun  of  Fame  but  gilds  the  name, 
The  heart  ne'er  felt  its  ray.' 

Pardon  me  if  I  have  ventured  too  far,  or  wounded 
your  feelings :  it  was  not  my  intention,  and  I  have 
spoken  half  unconsciously." 

"  Thank  you,  Miss  Irving,  for  your  kind  words  of 
comfort  and  advice.  Fear  not  that  ambition  will 
lure  me;  I  know  its  hollow,  bitter  wages,  and  can 
not  be  deceived.  Yet  there  is  a  lonely  feeling  in  my 
heart  which  I  can  not  dispel  at  will.  Still  my  plans 
for  the  future  are  sufficiently  active  to  interest  me; 
and  I  doubt  not  that  a  year  hence  I  shall  feel  quite 
differently.  If  I  could  always  have  your  counsel 
and  sympathy,  I  should  fear  nothing." 

"  In  seasons  of  trial — in  the  hours  of  gloom  and 
despondency — appeal  to  your  sister  for  comfort. 
Oh !  she  is  far  more  capable  of  advising  and  cheer- 
ing than  I,  who  only  echo  her  sentiments."  Mary 
pressed  her  hand  to  her  side,  and  leaning  back, 
closed  her  eyes,  as  if  longing  for  sest. 

"  I  have  drawn  you  on  to  converse  more  than  was 
proper — forgive  my  thoughtlessness ;  and,  if  it  would 
not  be  impossible,  sleep,  and  be  at  rest."  He  care- 
fully arranged  her  shawls,  and  as  she  lay  a  long 
while  with  closed  eyes,  he  thought  her  sleeping,  but 


226          INEZ;  A  TALE  or  THE  ALAMO. 

turning,  after  a. time,  was  surprised  to  perceive  her 
gazing  earnestly  out  on  the  beautiful  country  through 
which  they  now  rode. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

44  Alas !  how  light  a  cause  may  move 
Dissensions  between  hearts  that  love  t 
Hearts  that  the  world  in  vain  had  tried, 
And  sorrow  but  more  closely  tied ; 
That  stood  the  storm  when  waves  were  rough 
Yet  in  a  sunny  hour,  fall  off, 
Like  ships  that  have  gone  down  at  sea, 
When  heaven  was  al'  tranquillity  1" 

— Moore. 

PEACE  and  quiet  and  rest  for  you  at  last !"  cried 
Dr.  Bryant,  as  they  drove  into  the  village  of  Wash- 
ington, and,  by  dint  of  much  trouble  and  exertion, 
procured  a  small  and  comfortless  house.  But  a 
bright  fire  soon  blazed  in  the  broad,  deep,  old- 
fashioned  chimney — the  windows  and  doors  closed — 
their  small  stock  of  furniture  and  provisions  un- 
packed, and  a  couch  prepared  for  Mary,  now  far  too 
feeble  to  sit  up.  The  members  of  the  safe  and 
happy  party  gathered  about  the  hearth,  and  dis- 
cussed hopefully  their  future  prospects.  Dr.  Bryant 
raised  bis  eyes  to  the  somewhat  insecure  roof, 


INEZ;  A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO.  22/ 

through  which  the  light  of  day  occasionally  stole  in. 
and  exclaimed: 

'  And  doth  a  roof  above  me  ciose . 

"  Not  such  a  one  as  greeted  Mazeppa  on  regain- 
ing his  senses,  Frank;  rather  insecure,  'tis  true,  yet 
somewhat  better  than  the  canvas  covering  for  which 
we  have  been  so  grateful  of  late." 

Dr.  Bryant  leaned  his  elbow  on  the  mantle-piece, 
and  fell  into  a  fit  of  musing,  not  unusual  to  him  since 
leaving  San  Antonio.  The  servant  disturbed  his 
reverie  by  requesting  room  for  her  cooking  utensils. 
He  raised  his  head  as  she  spoke,  and  then,  as  if 
utterly  unconscious,  dropped  it  again,  without  reply. 

"  A  segar  for  your  thoughts,  Bryant !"  said  Mr. 
Stewar^  and  linking  his  arm  in  that  of  his  friend 
they  turned  away. 

Florence  approached  her  cousin,  and  bending 
over  the  wasted  form,  asked  if  she  were  not  already 
better. 

Mary  lifted  her  arms  to  her  cousin's  neck,  and  for 
a  moment  strove  to  press  her  to  her  heart,  but 
strength  had  failed  rapidly  of  late,  and  they  sank 
wearily  by  her  side.  Florence  sat  down  and  took 
both  hands  between  hers. 

*  Tell  me,  dear,  if  you  are  in  pain  ?" 

"  No,  Florry,  I  do  not  suffer  much  now;  I  am  at 
present  free  from  all  pain.  I  have  not  had  an 
opportunity  of  talking  with  you  for  some  time. 
Florry,  tell  me,  are  you  very  happy  !" 

"  Yes,  Mary,  I  am  very  happy — happier  than  I 


228  INEZ  J  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

ever  was  before ;  and  far  more  so  than  I  deserve.  Oh.' 
Mary,  how  miserable  I  have  been;  and  it  is  by  con- 
trast  that  the  transition  is  so  delightful.  I  doubted 
the  goodness  and  mercy  of  God,  and,  in  the  bitter- 
ness of  my  heart,  I  asked  why  I  had  been  created 
for  so  much  suffering.  Oh,  Mary !  my  pure-hearted, 
angel  cousin,  how  much  of  my  present  happiness  I 
owe  to  you.  Suppose  you  had  suffered  me  to  wan- 
der on  in  a  maze  of  darkness.  At  this  moment  I 
should  have  been  a  desolate,  deluded,  miserable 
nun;  clinging  to  a  religion  which,  instead  of  Bible 
truths,  filled  the  anxious,  aching  heart  with  monkish 
legends  of  unattested  miracles,  and  in  place  of  the 
pure  worship  of  God,  gives  us  mummeries  nearer 
akin  to  pagan  rites !  I  thank  God  that  I  am  released 
from  my  thralldom.  I  see  now  the  tissue  of  false- 
hood so  plausible  in  which  all  things  were  wrapped. 
Blackness  and  deceit  in  the  garb  of  truth  and  purity! 
And  it  is  horrible  to  think  that  he  who  so  led  me 
astray  claims  to  be  my  brother!  Mary,  Mary,  how 
can  I  tell  Mr.  Stewart  this? — tell  him  that  I  have 
wondered  from  the  true  faith — that  I  have  knelt  in 
confession  to  him  who  cursed  our  common  father! 
He  will  despise  me  for  my  weakness;  for  only  yes- 
terday he  said  he  first  loved  me  for  my  clear  insight 
into  right  and  wrong,  and  my  scorn  of  deceit  and 
hypocrisy!  Yet  I  deceived  you;  at  least,  tacitly — 
you  who  have  ever  loved  me  so  truly,  you  who  have 
saved  me  at  last,  and  pointed  out  the  road  to  heaven. 
Mary  forgive  me !  I  never  asked  pardon  of  any  on 
earth  before,  but  I  wronged  you,  good  and  gentle 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE   OF  THE   ALAMO.  22Q 

though  you  always  were.  Forgive  me,  oh,  my 
cousin!" 

Mary  clasped  Florence's  hands  in  hers,  and  though 
too  feeble  to  speak  very  audibly,  replied : 

"  Florry,  think  not  of  the  past;  it  has  been  very 
painful  to  us  both,  yet  I  thank  God  that  you  are 
right  at  last.  You  know  how  I  love  you:  I  would 
give  every  treasure  of  earth  to  contribute  to  your 
happiness;  and  now  that  you  are  so  blest,  listen  to 
my  counsel.  Florry,  there  is  a  cloud  no  bigger  than 
a  man's  hand  resting  low  on  the  horizon  of  your 
happiness — be  warned  in  time.  You  know  Mr. 
Stewart's  firm,  unwavering  principles  of  Protestant- 
ism ;  you  know,  too,  the  aversion  with  which  he  re- 
gards the  priests  of  Rome;  it  may  be  a  hard  task 
now,  but  it  will  be  tenfold  more  difficult  a  year 
hence.  Go  to  him  at  once,  tell  him  you  were  mis- 
guided and  deceived,  and  reveal  every  circumstance 
connected  with  that  unhappy  period.  He  will  love 
you  more  for  your  candor.  Florry,  you  turn  pale, 
as  though  unequal  to  the  task.  Oh,  my  cousin,  you 
prize  his  love  more  than  truth ;  but  the  time  will 
come  when  he  will  prize  truth  more  than  your  love! 
Florry,  let  me  beg  you  tell  him  all,  and  at  once." 
She  sank  back,  as  if  exhausted  by  her  effort  in  speak- 
ing so  long,  yet  firmly  retained  Florence's  hand. 

"  Mary,  if  I  do  this,  it  is  at  the  risk  of  losing  his 
esteem,  which  I  prize  even  more  than  his  love.  And 
after  all,  /  cannot  see  that  truth  or  duty  requires 
this  humiliating  confession.  Should  he  ever  question 
me,  I  should  scorn  to  deceive  him,  and  at  onoe 


23O  INEZ  ;   A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO. 

should  tell  him  all.  But  he  does  not  suspect  it,  and 
/,  being  no  longer  in  danger  or  blinded,  need  not 
reveal  the  past." 

Mournfully  Mary  regarded  her  beautiful  cousin. 

"  Florry,  if  you  conceal  nothing  now,  he  will  es- 
teem you  more  than  ever  for  hazarding  his  love  in 
the  cause  of  truth.  If,  in  after  years,  he  discovers 
the  past,  he  will  tell  you  that,  silently  at  least,  you 
deceived  him,  and  reproach  you  with  want  of  can- 
dor and  firmness.  Oh!  there  is  a  fearful  risk  to 
run;  he  will  never  place  confidence  in  you  again — 
be  warned  in  time." 

The  entrance  of  Aunt  Lizzy  and  Mrs.  Carlton  pre- 
vented further  conversation,  and  unclasping  Mary's 
fingers,  Florence  disengaged  her  hand  and  left  the 
room. 

Two  days  passed  in  furnishing  and  arranging  their 
new  home,  and  Mary  saw  but  little  of  her  cousin. 
As  evening  closed  in  again,  the  invalid  watched 
from  her  couch  the  countenance  of  Mr.  Stewart,  as 
he  sat  earnestly  conversing  with  her  aunt.  Florence 
and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Carleton  were  out  making  some 
necessary  purchases,  and  Dr.  Bryant  had  been  ab- 
sent on  business  of  his  own  since  morning." 

"  Florence  is  too  young  to  marry,  or  even  dream 
of  it,  at  present,  Mr.  Stewart;  and  besides, if  I  must 
be  candid,  I  have  always  entertained  different  views 
for  her." 

"  Pardon  me,  but  I  believe  I  scarcely  comprehend 
your  meaning.  You  speak  of  other  views  for  her; 
may  I  venture  to  ask  the  nature  of  these  ?" 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  231 

•*  I  have  never  expected  her  to  marry  at  all,  Mr. 
Stewart." 

"  And  why  not,  pray  ?  What  can  you  urge  in 
favor  of  yotir  wishes  ?" 

"  I  had  her  own  words  to  that  effect,  scarce  a 
month  ago." 

A  proud,  happy  smile  played  round  his  lips,  and 
he  replied  :  "  She  may  have  thought  so  then,  but  I 
think  her  views  have  changed." 

"  But  for  Mary,  she  would  have  been  the  same  :" 
and  a  bitter  look  passed  over  her  wrinkled  face. 

"  Excuse  me,  if  I  ask  an  explanation  of  your 
enigmatical  language ;  there  is  some  hidden  meaning. 
I  well  know." 

"  Mr.  Stewart,  your  mother  and  I  are  old  friends 
and  I  wish  you  well;  but  all  good  Catholics  love 
their  church  above  every  earthly  thing.  I  should 
like  to  see  Florence  happy,  but  her  eternal  good 
should  first  be  secured ;  you  are  a  Protestant,  and 
bitterly  opposed  to  our  Holy  Church,  and  I  cannot 
consent  to  see  her  marry  a  heretic,  for  such  you  are  : 
she  is  too  far  astray  already." 

"  If  your  niece  were  herself  a  Papist,  your  reason 
would  indeed  be  a  cogent  one;  but,  nnder  existing 
circumstances,  I  am  puzzled  to  understand  you." 

"  Were  it  not  for  Mary's  influence,  Florence  would 
even  now  rest  in  the  bosom  of  our  Holy  Church. 
She  has  done  her  cousin  a  grievous  wrong;  may 
God  and  the  Blessed  Virgin  forgive  her!" 

Mary  groaned  in  spirit,  as  she  marked  the  stern 
glance  of  his  eagle  eye,  and  feebly  raising  herself, 


232  INEZ  J  A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO. 

she  said  :  "  Mr.  Stewart,  will  you  take  this  seat  be- 
side the  sofa  ?    I  wish  to  speak  with  you." 

Aunt  Lizzy  left  the  room  hurriedly,  as  though  she 
had  already  heard  too  much,  and  silently  he  com- 
plied with  Mary's  request. 

"  You  are  pained  and  perplexed  at  what  my  aunt 
has  just  said ;  allow  me  to  explain  what  may  seem  a 
great  mystery.  You  are  not  aware  that  my  uncle 
died  a  Papist.  Weakened  in  body  and  mind  by  dis- 
ease, he  was  sought  and  influenced  in  secret,  when  I 
little  dreamed  of  such  a  change.  On  his  deathbed 
he  embraced  the  Romish  faith,  and,  as  I  have  since 
learned,  exacted  from  Florry  a  promise  to  abide  by 
the  advice  of  his  priest,  in  spiritual  as  well  as  tem- 
poral matters.  He  expired  in  the  act  of  taking  the 
sacrament,  and  our  desolation  of  heart  can  be  better 
imagined  than  described — left  so  utterly  alone  and 
unprotected,  far  from  our  relatives  and  the  friends 
of  our  youth.  I  now  marked  a  change  in  Florry, 
though  at  a  loss  to  account  for  it.  An  influence, 
secret  as  that  exerted  on  her  lost  parent,  was  like- 
wise successful,  and,  to  my  grief  and  astonishment, 
I  found  that  she  too  had  embraced  papacy." 

The  door  opened  and  Florence  entered.  She 
started  on  seeing  her  lover,  but  advanced  to  them 
much  as  usual.  He  raised  his  head,  and  cold  and 
stern  was  the  glance  he  bent  on  her  beautiful  face. 
She  stood  beside  him,  and  rising,  he  placed  a  chair 
for  her  in  perfect  silence.  Mary's  heart  ached,  as 
she  noted  the  marble  paleness  which  overspread  her 
cousin's  cheek.  Mr.  Stewart  folded  his  arms  across 


INEZ;   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  233 

his  chest,  and  said  in  a  low,  stern,  yet  mournful 
tone: 

"  Florence,  I  could  not  have  believed  that  you 
would  have  deceived  me,  as  you  have  silently  done." 

Mournfully  Florence  looked  for  a  moment  on 
Mary's  face,  yet  there  was  no  reproach  in  her  glance; 
it  seemed  but  to  say — "  You  have  wakened  me  from 
my  dream  of  happiness." 

She  lifted  proudly  her  head,  and  fixed  her  dark 
eyes  full  on  her  lover. 

"  Explain  yourself,  Mr.  Stewart ;  I  have  a  right  to 
know  with  what  I  am  charged,  though  I  almost 
scorn  to  refute  that  of  deceit." 

"  Not  a  week  since,  Florence,  you  heard  me  avow 
my  dislike  of  the  tenets  and  practices  of  the  Romish 
Church.  I  said  then,  as  now,  that  no  strong-minded, 
intelligent  woman  of  the  present  age  could  consult 
the  page  of  history  and  then  say  that  she  conscien- 
tiously believed  its  doctrines  to  be  pure  and  scrip- 
tural, or  its  practices  in  accordance  with  the  teach- 
ings of  our  Saviour.  You  tacitly  concurred  in  my 
opinions.  Florence,  did  you  tell  me  you  had  once 
held  those  doctrines  in  reverence  ?  Nay,  that  even 
now  you  lean  to  papacy  ?"  Stern  was  his  tone,  and 
cold  and  slightly  contemptuous  his  glance. 

A  bitter,  scornful  smile  wreathed  the  lips  of  his 
betrothed.  "  I  acknowledge  neither  the  authority  of 
questioning,  nor  allow  the  privilege  of  any  on  earth 
to  impugn  my  motives  or  my  actions.  Had  I  felt  it 
incumbent  on  me  to  acquaint  you  with  every  cir- 
cumstance of  my  past  life,  I  should  undoubtedly 


234  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

have  done  so,  when  you  offered  me  your  hand.  I 
felt  no  obligation  to  that  effect,  and  consequently 
consulted  my  own  inclinations.  If,  for  a  moment, 
you  had  doubted  me,  or  asked  an  explanation  of  the 
past,  I  should  have  scorned  to  dissemble  with  you; 
and  now  that  the  subject  is  broached  you  shall  have 
the  particulars,  which,  I  assure  you,  have  kept  well, 
though,  as  you  suppose,  sometime  withheld.  I  have 
been  a  member  of  the  Church  of  Rome:  I  have 
prayed  to  saints  and  the  Virgin,  counted  beads  and 
used  holy  water,  and  have  knelt  in  confession  to  a 
priest  of  papal  Rome.  I  did  all  this,  thinking,  for  a 
time,  my  salvation  dependent  on  it.  You  know  all 
now." 

Mr.  Stewart  regarded  her  sadly  as  she  uttered 
these  words,  and  his  stern  tone  softened  as  he  noticed 
her  bloodless  cheek  and  quivering  lip. 

"  Florence,  it  is  not  your  former  belief  or  practice 
that  give  me  this  pain,  and  sadden  our  future.  If 
you  were  at  this  moment  a  professor  of  the  Romish 
faith,  I  would  still  cherish  and  trust  you;  I  should 
strive  to  convince  you  of  your  error — to  point  out 
the  fallacy  of  your  hopes.  When  I  recall  the  circum- 
stances by  which  you  were  surrounded,  and  the  in- 
fluencs  exerted,  I  scarcely  wonder  that,  for  a  time, 
you  lent  your  credence  and  support.  But,  Florence, 
full  well  you  know  that  this  is  not  what  pains  me. 
It  is  the  consciousness  that  you  have  kept  me  in 
ignorance  of  what  your  own  heart  told  you  would 
show  your  momentary  weakness,  and  led  me  to  sup- 
pose you  entertained  a  belief  at  variance  with  your 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  235 

practice.  You  have  feared  my  displeasure  more 
than  the  disregard  of  truth  and  candor.  Florence, 
Florence !  knowing  how  well  I  loved  you,  and  what 
implicit  confidence  I  reposed  in  you,  how  could  you 
do  this  ?" 

"  Again,  Mr.  Stewart,  I  repeat  that  I  perceive  no 
culpability  in  my  conduct.  Had  I  felt  it  my  duty, 
your  love  or  indifference  would  not  have  weighed 
an  atom  in  my  decision  to  act  according  to  my  sense 
of  right  and  wrong." 

He  turned  from  her,  and  paced  to  and  fro  before 
the  fire.  Florence  would  have  left  the  room,  but 
Mary  clasped  her  dress,  and  detained  her. 

"  Mr.  Stewart,  you  have  been  too  harsh  and  hasty 
in  your  decision,  and  too  severe  in  your  remarks. 
Florry  has  not  forfeited  your  love,  though  she  acted 
imprudently.  Ask  your  own  heart  whether  you  would 
be  willing  to  expose  to  her  eye  your  every  foible  and 
weakness.  For  you,  like  all  God's  creatures,  have 
faults  of  our  own.  Is  there  nothing  you  have  left 
untold  relative  to  your  past  ?  Oh !  if  you  knew  how 
deep  and  unutterable  has  been  her  love,  even  when 
she  never  again  expected  to  meet  you,  you  would 
forget  this  momentary  weakness — a  fault  committed 
from  the  very  intensity  of  her  love,  and  fear  lest  she 
should  sink  in  your  estimation." 

"  Mary,  if  she  had  said,  Dudley,  I  have  not  always 
felt  as  now,  and  my  mind  was  darkened  for  a  time,  I 
should  have  loved  her,  if  possible,  more  than  before, 
for  her  noble  candor.  My  own  heart  would  have 
told  me,  This  is  one  in  whom  you  may  eternally 


23<5  INEZ;   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

trust,  for  she  risked  the  forfeiture  of  your  love  in 
order  that  truth  might  be  unsullied  How  can  I 
confide  in  one  who  values  the  esteem  of  man  more 
than  the  approval  of  her  own  conscience  ?  You 
have  said  her  love  was  a  palliation.  No,  you  are 
wrong ;  it  is  an  aggravation  of  her  fault.  She  should 
have  loved  me  too  well  to  suffer  me  to  discover  by 
chance  what  should  have  been  disclosed  in  confi- 
dence. Mary,  her  love  is  not  greater  than  mine. 
None  know  how  I  have  cherished  her  memory — 
how  I  have  kept  her  loved  image  in  my  heart  dur- 
ing our  long  separation.  I  would  give  every  earthly 
joy  or  possession  to  retain  her  affection,  for  it  is 
dearer  to  me  than  every  thing  beside,  save  truth,  can- 
dor and  honesty.  I  have  nothing  to  conceal  from 
her.  I  would  willingly  bare  my  secret  soul  to  her 
scrutiny.  There  is  nothing  I  should  wish  to  keep 
back,  unless  it  be  the  pain  of  this  hour." 

He  paused  by  her  side,  and  looked  tenderly  on 
the  pale,  yet  lovely  face  of  Florence. 

"  Mr.  Stewart,  shall  one  fault  forever  destroy 
your  confidence  in  Florry,  when  she  has  declared 
that  had  she  thought  it  incumbent  on  her  to  speak 
of  these  things — if  she  had  felt  as  you  do,  she  asserts 
that  nothing  could  have  prevented  her  revealing 
every  circumstance." 

"  Mary,  I  fear  her  code  of  morality  is  somewhat 
too  lax  ;  and  the  fact  that  she  acknowledges  no 
fault  is  far  more  painful  than  any  other  circum- 
stance." 

"  Mary,  I  have  omitted  one  thing  which  I  wish 


INEZ  J   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  237 

him  to  know.  I  neglected  to  inform  you,  that  the 
priest  to  whom  I  confessed  is  my  half -brother!  I 
have  now  told  you  all ;  and  thinking  as  you  do,  it  is 
better  that  in  future  we  forget  the  past  and  be  as 
strangers  to  each  other.  That  I  have  loved  you 
fervently,  I  can  never  forget — neither  your  assertion 
that  I  am  unworthy  of  your  confidence." 

She  disengaged  her  dress  from  Mary's  clasp,  and 

turned  toward  the  door.     Mr.  Stewart  caught  her 

hand,  and  firmly  held  it.     She  struggled  not  to  re- 

1«*ase  herself,  but  lifted  her  dark  eyes  to  his,  and 

klmly  met  his  earnest  glance. 

"  Florence!" 

There  was  a  mournful  tenderness  in  the  deep 
tone.  Her  lip  quivered,  still  her  eyes  fell  not 
beneath  his,  piercing  as  an  eagle's. 

"  Mr.  Stewart,  you  have  wronged  her;  you  have 
been  too  severe."  And  Mary  clasped  his  hand 
tightly,  and  looked  up  appealingly.  He  withdrew 
his  hand. 

"  Florence,  this  is  a  bitter,  bitter  hour  to  me.  Yet 
I  may  have  judged  too  harshly :  we  will  forget  the 
past,  and,  in  future,  let  no  such  cloud  come  be- 
tween us." 

"  Not  so,  Mr.  Stewart :  if  I  am  unworthy,  how  can 
you  expect  confidence  from  me  ?  Think  you  I  will 
change  the  code  which  you  just  now  pronounced 
too  lax  ?  Oh !  you  know  not  what  you  have  done. 
It  is  no  light  thing  to  tell  a  woman  of  my  nature  she 
is  unworthy  of  the  love  she  prized  above  every 


238  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

earthly  thing!"     Her  voice,  despite    her   efforts, 
faltered. 

"  Florence,  I  have  been  too  severe  in  my  language, 
and  you  too  proud  and  haughty.  Full  well  we  know 
that  without  the  love  of  each  other  life  would  be  joy- 
less to  both.  Ours  is  not  a  common  love ;  and  again 
I  say,  let  us  forget  the  past,  while,  in  future,  need  I 
ask  you  to  keep  nothing  from  me  ?" 

He  drew  her  to  him  as  he  spoke,  and  passing  his 
arm  round  her,  pressed  her  to  his  heart.  A  long 
time  Florence  hid  her  head  on  his  shoulder,  as  if 
struggling  with  her  emotion,  and  then  a  heavy  sob 
relieved  her  troubled  heart.  Closer  he  clasped  her 
to  him,  and,  laying  his  cheek  on  hers,  murmured: 

"  My  own  darling  Florence,  forgive  me,  if  I  mis- 
judged you ;  tell  me  that  you  will  not  remember  my 
words — that  this  hour  shall  be  to  us  as  a  painful 
dream." 

She  withdrew  from  his  embrace,  and,  lifted  her 
head,  replied: 

"  I  was  wrong  to  doubt  your  love,  or  believe  that 
you  would  think  long  of  my  weakness;  but  I  am 
innocent  of  the  charge  of  dissimulation,  and  never 
let  us  recur  to  the  past." 

She  held  out  her  hand,  and  clasping  it  in  his,  Mr. 
Stewart  led  her  away. 

An  hour  later  Mary  lay  with  closed  eyes,  too 
weary,  from  over  excitement,  even  to  look  about  her. 
All  had  left  the  room,  and  a  dim  light  from  the 
hearth  just  faintly  lighted  the  large,  comfortless 
apartment.  With  noiseless  step  Dr.  Bryant  entered, 


INEZ;   A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO.  239 

and  seating  himself  in  the  vacant  chair,  near  Mary's 
sofa,  bent  forward  that  he  might  look  on  the  wan 
face  of  the  sufferer.  His  heart  ached  as  he  noted 
the  painful  alteration  of  the  last  week,  and  gently 
and  softly  he  took  one  of  the  thin  white  hands  be- 
tween his  own.  It  was  cold  and  damp,  and,  while 
he  pressed  it,  the  dark  blue  eyes  rested  earnestly  on 
his  face. 

"  I  hoped  you  were  sleeping,  did  I  wake  you  ?" 
and  he  laid  the  hand  back,  as  she  strove  to  with- 
draw it. 

"  No,  I  have  not  slept  since  morning." 

"  Oh!  I  am  troubled  at  your  constant  suffering;  is 
there  any  thing  I  can  do  for  you  ?" 

"  No,  thank  you,  Doctor,  I  wish  nothing." 

"  All  my  arrangements  are  completed,  and  to- 
morrow I  return  to  your  home.  Can  I  deliver  any 
message,  or  execute  any  commission  !" 

For  a  moment  Mary  closed  her  eyes,  then  replied 
in  a  low  voice : 

"  If  you  should  see  Inez,  tell  her  to  remember  my 
gift  at  parting,  and  thank  her,  in  my  name,  for  her 
many,  many  kindnesses."  She  paused,  as  if  gather- 
ing courage  to  say  something  more. 

"  And  tell  her,  too,  that  ere  many  hours  I  shall  be 
at  rest.  Tell  her  I  have  no  fear,  nay  more,  that  I 
have  great  hope,  and  that  heaven  is  opening  for  me. 
Let  her  prepare  to  join  me,  where  there  is  no  sorrow 
nor  parting." 

There  was  a  silence,  as  if  they  were  communing 
with  their  own  hearts. 


240  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

"  You  go  to-morrow,  Dr.  Bryant  ?  Then  you  will 
not  stay  to  see  me  die  ?  I  am  failing  fast,  and  when 
you  return,  I  shall  have  gone  to  that  bourne  whence 
no  traveler  comes  back  to  tell  the  tale.  Let  me 
thank  you  now,  for  your  unvarying  kindness;  many 
have  been  your  services,  and  a  brother's  care  has 
ever  followed  me.  Thank  you !  I  appreciate  your 
kindness,  and  earnest  and  heartfelt  is  my  prayer  that 
you  may  be  very  happy  and  blest  on  earth;  and 
when  you,  too,  come  to  die,  may  your  end  be  like 
mine — free  from  all  fear,  and  may  hope  and  joy  at- 
tend your  last  moments !" 

Her  breathing  grew  short,  and  large  drops  stood 
on  her  pure,  beautiful  brow. 

He  had  bent  his  head  upon  his  bosom  while  she 
spoke,  but  now  he  raised  it,  and,  taking  Iher  hand, 
clasped  it  warmly. 

"  Mary,  Mary,  if  you  knew  what  torture  you  in- 
flicted, you  would  spare  me  this!" 

It  was  the  first  time  he  had  called  her  Mary,  and 
her  pale  lip  quivered. 

"  Forgive  me,  if  I  cause  you  pain!" 

Bending  forward,  he  continued,  in  a  tone  of  touch- 
ing sadness — "  I  had  determined,  Mary,  to  keep  my 
grief  locked  in  my  own  heart,  and  never  to  let  words 
of  love  pass  my  lips.  But  the  thought  of  parting  with 
you  forever  is  more  than  I  can  bear.  Oh !  Mary, 
have  you  not  seen  for  weeks  and  months  how  I  have 
loved  you  ?  Long  ago,  when  first  we  met,  a  deep, 
unutterable  love  stole  into  my  heart.  I  fancied  for 
a  time  that  you  returned  it,  till  the  evening  we  met 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  241 

at  my  sister's,  and  yoc  spoke  with  such  indifference 
of  leaving  me  behind.  I  saw  then  I  had  flattered 
myself  falsely;  that  you  entertained  none  save 
friendly  feelings  toward  me.  Still  I  thought  in  time 
you  might  learn  to  regard  me  with  warmer  senti- 
ments. So  I  hoped  on  till  the  evening  of  our  last 
ride,  when  your  agitation  led  me  to  suppose  you 
loved  another.  I  saw  you  meet  Mr.  Stewart,  and 
was  confirmed  in  my  supposition.  I  gave  up  all 
hope  of  ever  winning  your  affection  in  return.  Now 
I  see  my  error  in  believing  for  a  moment  that  you 
felt  otherwise  to  him  than  as  a  brother,  as  the  be- 
trothed of  your  cousin.  I  know  that  you  have  never 
loved  him,  and  pardon  my  error.  When  I  sought 
you  just  now,  it  was  to  say  good-by,  and  in  absence 
and  varied  and  exciting  pursuits  to  shut  out  from 
my  heart  the  memory  of  my  hopes  and  fears.  Mary, 
your  words  fill  me  with  inexpressible  anguish !  Oh, 
you  can  not  know  how  blank  and  dreary  earth  will 
seem  when  you  are  gone !  I  shall  have  no  hope,  no 
incitement,  no  joy!" 

As  she  listened  to  this  confession,  which  a  month 
before  would  have  brought  the  glow  to  her  cheek 
and  sparkle  to  her  eye,  she  felt  that  it  came  too  late; 
still  a  perfect  joy  stole  into  her  heart.  She  turned 
her  face  toward  him,  and  gently  said: 

"  I  am  dying;  and,  feeling  as  I  do,  that  few  hours 
are  allotted  me,  I  shall  not  hesitate  to  speak  freely 
and  candidly.  Some  might  think  me  deviating  from 
the  delicacy  of  my  sex;  but,  under  the  circumstances, 
I  feel  that  I  am  not.  I  have  loved  you  long,  and  to 


INEZ  J  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

know  that  my  love  is  returned,  is  a  source  of  deep 
and  unutterable  joy  to  me.  You  were  indeed  wrong 
to  suppose  I  ever  regarded  Mr.  Stewart  otherwise 
than  as  Florry's  future  husband.  I  have  never 
loved  but  one." 

"  Mary,  can  it  be  possible  that  you  have  loved  me, 
when  I  fancied,  of  late,  that  indifference,  and  even 
dislike,  nestled  in  your  heart  ?  We  shall  yet  be 
happy !  I  thank  God  that  we  shall  be  so  blest !"  And 
he  pressed  the  thin  hand  to  his  lips. 

"  Do  not  deceive  yourself.  Your  confession  has 
come  too  late.  I  can  never  be  yours,  for  the  hand 
of  death  is  already  laid  upon  me,  and  my  spirit  will 
wing  its  way,  ere  long,  home  to  God.  Now  that  we 
understand  each  other,  and  while  I  yet  live,  let  us 
be  as  calm,  as  happy  as  the  circumstances  allow. 
It  may  seem  hard  that  I  should  be  taken  when  the 
future  appears  so  bright,  but  I  do  not  repine,  neither 
must  you.  God,  ever  good  and  merciful,  sees  that 
it  is  best  I  should  go,  and  we  will  not  embitter  the 
few  hours  left  us  by  vain  regrets."  Too  feeble  to 
speak  more,  she  closed  her  eyes,  while  her  breath- 
ing grew  painfully  short. 

Dr.  Bryant  bent  forward,  and  gently  lifting  her 
head,  supported  her  with  his  strong  arm,  and 
stroked  off  from  her  beautiful  brow  the  clustering 
hair.  A  long  time  she  lay  motionless,  with  closed 
eyes,  and  bending  his  head,  he  pressed  a  long  kiss 
on  the  delicately-chiseled  lips. 

"  O  God !  spare  me  my  gentle  angel,  Mary,"  he 
murmured,  as  looking  on  the  wan,  yet  lovely  face, 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  243 

he  felt  that  to  yield  her  up  was  more  than  he  could 
bear. 

At  this  moment  Mrs.  Carlton  entered :  he  held  out 
his  hand,  and  drawing  her  to  his  side,  said,  in  a  deep, 
tender  tone. 

"  She  is  mine  now,  sister;  thank  God,  that  at  last 
I  have  won  her  and  pray  with  me  that  she  may  be 
spared  to  us  both." 

Fervently  she  pressed  his  hand,  and  a  tear  rolled 
down  and  dropped  upon  it,  as  she  bent  down  to  kiss 
the  sufferer.  Gently  he  put  her  back. 

"  She  is  wearied,  and  just  fallen  asleep;  do  not 
wake  her." 

He  carefully  depressed  his  arm  that  she  might 
rest  more  easily.  Mrs.  Carlton  seated  herself  beside 
her  brother,  and  whispered: 

"  You  will  not  go  to-morrow,  Frank  ?" 

"  No,  no;  I  will  not  leave  her  a  moment.  Ellen, 
does  she  seem  very  much  thinner  since  leaving 
home  ?  I  know  she  is  very  pale." 

41  Yes,  Frank ;  she  is  fearfully  changed  within  the 
last  week." 

"Oh,  Ellen!  if  she  should  be  taken  from  me;" 
and  closer  he  drew  his  arm,  as  though  fearing  some 
unseen  danger. 

"  We  must  look  to  Heaven  for  her  restoration,  and 
God  is  good,"  answered  his  sister,  turning  away  to 
conceal  her  tears. 


Vol.  6  K— Evans 


244  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

"  Ah !  whence  yon  glare 

That  fires  the  arch  of  heaven  ?— that  dark  red  smoke 
Blotting  the  silver  moon  ?    .    .    . 
Hark  to  that  roar,  whose  swift  and  deafening  peals, 
In  countless  echoes,  through  the  mountains  ring, 

Startling  pale  midnight  on  her  starry  throne. 

*  *  *  *  «  * 

Loud  and  more  loud,  the  discord  grows, 

Till  pale  Death  shuts  the  scene, 

And  o'er  the  conqueror  and  the  conquered  draws 

His  cold  and  bloody  shroud." 

— Shelley. 

THE  6th  of  March  rose  dark  and  lowering,  and  all 
nature  wore  an  aspect  meet  for  the  horrors  which 
that  day  chronicled  in  the  page  of  history.  To- 
ward noon  the  dense  leaden  cloud  floated  off,  as 
though  the  uncertainty  which  vailed  the  future  had 
suddenly  been  lifted — the  crisis  had  come.  Santa 
Anna  and  his  blood-thirsty  horde,  rendered  more 
savage  by  the  recollection  of  the  nth  December, 
poured  out  the  vial  of  their  wrath  on  the  doomed 
town.  Oh !  San  Antonio,  thou  art  too  beautiful  for 
strife  and  discord  to  mar  thy  quiet  loveliness.  Yet 
the  fiery  breath  of  desolating  war  swept  rudely  o'er 
thee,  and,  alas!  thou  wast  sorely  scathed. 

A  second  time  the  ill-fated  fortress  was  fiercely 
charged.  Long  it  withstood  the  terrible  shock,  and 
the  overwhelming  thousands  that  so  madly  pressed 


INEZ  J  A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO.  245 

its  gray,  mouldering  walls.  The  sun  went  down  as 
it  were  in  a  sea  of  blood,  its  lurid  light,  gleaming 
ominously  on  the  pale,  damp  brows  of  the  doomed 
garrison.  Black  clouds  rolled  up  and  vailed  the 
heavens  in  gloom .  Night  closed  prematurely  in  with 
fitful  gusts,  mingling  the  moans  and  strife  of  nature 
with  the  roar  of  artillery.  Still  the  fury  of  the  onset 
abated  not:  the  Alamo  shook  to  its  firm  basis. 
Despairingly  the  noble  band  raised  their  eyes  to  the 
blackened  sky.  "  God  help  us!"  A  howling  blast 
swept  by,  lost  in  the  deep  muttering  of  the  cannon- 
ade. Then  a  deep  voice  rung  clearly  out,  high 
above  the  surrounding  din:  "  Comrades,  we  are 
lost !  let  us  die  like  brave  men !" 

The  shriek  of  departing  hope  was  echoed  back  by 
the  sullen  groan  of  despair.  Travis  fell,  fighting  at 
the  entrance.  As  the  hero  sank  upon  the  gory  floor, 
there  was  a  pause ;  friend  and  foe  gazed  upon  the 
noble  form !  His  spirit  sprang  up  to  meet  his  God. 

"  On,  comrades!  Travis  has  fallen!  dearly  will  we 
die!" 

One  hundred  and  fifty  brave  hearts  poured  out 
their  life-blood  by  his  motionless  form,  struck  down 
like  sheep  in  the  slaughter-pen.  But  seven  re- 
mained :  in  despair  they  gaze  on  the  ruin  around, 
reeling  from  exhaustion  and  slipping  in  gore.  There 
was  borne  on  the  midnight  air  a  faint,  feeble  cry: 
"Quarter!  quarter!"  Alas!  brave  hearts,  the  ap- 
peal was  lost,  for  an  incarnate  demon  led  the  thirsty 
"band.  With  a  fiendish  yell  it  was  answered  back, 


246  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

"  No  quarter !"  and  ye  seven  were  stretched  beside 
yon  fearless  noble  Travis. 

Not  a  living  Texan  remained.  The  stiffening 
forms,  grim  in  death,  returned  not  even  a  groan  to 
the  wild  shout  of  triumph  that  rung  so  mockingly 
through  the  deserted  chambers  of  the  slaughter- 
house. Victory  declared  for  the  wily  tyrant — the 
black-hearted  Santa  Anna.  Complete  was  the  de- 
solation which  reigned  around :  there  was  none  to 
oppose — no  not  one;  and  the  Alamo  was  his  again.1 
Oh,  Death !  thou  art  insatiate !  Hundreds  had  yielded 
to  thy  call,  and  followed  the  beckoning  of  thy  re- 
lentless hand:  and  still  another  must  swell  thy 
spectre  host,  and  join  the  shadowy  band  of  the 
Spirit  World.' 

For  three  days  Don  Garcia  lay  motionless  on  his 
couch  of  pain;  even  utterance  was  denied  him,  for 
paralysis  had  stretched  forth  her  numb,  stiffening 
finger,  and  touched  him,  even  while  he  stood  in  the 
busy  haunts  of  men.  All  day  the  din  of  battle  had 
sounded  in  his  ear;  Inez  from  time  to  time  stole 
from  his  side,  and  looked  out  toward  the  fortress, 
dimly  seen  through  the  sulphurous  cloud  of  smoke 
and  the  blaze  of  artillery. 

In  the  silent  watches  of  the  night,  the  shout  of 
"  Victory!"  was  borne  on  by  the  blast.  "  My  father, 
the  Alamo  is  taken — Santa  Anna  has  conquered !" 
He  struggled  fearfully,  a  gurgling  sound  alone  passed 
his  lips,  and  he  fell  back  lifeless  on  his  pillow. 

Calmly  the  girl  bent  down  and  closed  the  eyes, 
covered  decently  the  convulsed  features,  and  then, 


INEZ  ;   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  247 

shrouding  her  face  with  the  mantilla,  stept  forth  for 
assistance.  The  next  day  saw  the  Don  borne  to  his 
last  resting-place.  In  accordance  with  the  custom 
of  the  nation,  no  female  followed  the  bier.  It  was 
borne  by  two  men,  and  followed  by  some  dozen 
children,  and  perhaps  as  many  aged  Mexicans, 
while  just  in  advance  strode  the  Padre,  repeating 
the  Latin  service  for  the  dead,  and  attended  by  four 
boys — two  bearing  censers,  one  a  cross,  and  the 
other  holy  water.  With  indecent  haste  they  pressed 
forward,  passing  through  the  church,  and  resting  the 
bier  for  a  moment  on  the  altar,  while  an  Ave  Maria 
was  repeated.  At  a  sign  from  the  Padre,  the  pro- 
cession moved  on  to  the  churchyard,  and,  without 
further  ceremony,  the  body  was  deposited  in  con- 
secrated ground.  Holy  water  was  sprinkled  profusedly 
around,  and  then  all  departed,  leaving  him  to  sleep 
undisturbed  the  last  dreamless  sleep. 

Night  found  Inez  sitting  alone  by  her  dreary,  de- 
serted hearth.  Father,  mother,  sister,  cousin,  all  had 
passed  on  before  her;  and  the  last  of  her  house,  she 
mused  in  her  lonely  home.  A  faint  fire  flickering 
on  the  hearth  just  revealed  the  form  and  face  of  the 
Mexican  maiden.  Her  mantilla  lay  on  the  floor  be- 
side her,  the  black  hair,  thick  and  straight,  hung  to 
the  waist,  her  brilliant,  piercing  eyes  were  bent  va- 
cantly on  the  fire,  her  dark  cheek  perfectly  colorless 
as  clay. 

"  Who  is  there  to  care  for  Inez  now  ?  Who  will 
smoothe  my  pillow,  and  close  my  eyes,  and  lay  me  to 
rest  ?" 


248  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

Her  desolation  of  heart  conquered ;  her  head  sunk 
upon  her  bosom,  and  a  deep,  bitter  groan  burst 
from  her  lips.  Slowly  she  rocked  herself  to  and  fro 
in  the  loneliness  of  her  spirit. 

She  had  not  loved  her  father  warmly;  there  was 
little  congeniality  between  them,  and  her  hasty  re- 
jection of  Mafiuel's  suit  mutually  embittered  their 
intercourse.  For  Nevarro,  a  sort  of  sisterly  feeling 
was  entertained,  no  warmer  affection.  Yet  she 
could  love  intensely.  A  little  sister  had  waked  her 
tenderness — her  heart  clung  to  the  gentle  child,  so 
unlike  herself.  She  sickened,  and  in  a  day  went 
down  to  the  tomb :  bitter  was  the  grief  of  Inez,  who 
felt  little  for  her  mother,  and  soon  she  too  took  her 
place  in  the  churchyard.  Dr.  Bryant  came,  and 
again  Inez  loved — again  she  was  disappointed ;  and 
now  she  sat  alone  in  the  wide  world,  without  one  re- 
maining tie  to  bind  the  future. 

The  hour  of  bitterness  had  come.  She  looked 
upon  that  dreary  future  and  her  utter  desolation, 
and  no  gleam  of  hope  stole  to  her  darkened  soul. 
An  almost  vacant  expression  settled  on  the  dark 
countenance  of  the  once  beautiful  maiden.  Softly 
the  door  was  pushed  ajar,  and  the  form  of  the  Padre 
stood  within.  By  instinct  she  seemed  aware  of  his 
entrance,  for  raising  her  bowed  head,  the  black 
sparkling  eyes  flashed,  and  the  broad  brow  wrinkled 
into  a  frown  dark  as  night.  He  approached  her 
and  they  stood  face  to  face  upon  the  hearth. 

"  What  do  you  do  here,  in  the  house  of  death,  Mio 
Padre  ?" 


INEZ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  249 

"  Inez,  my  queen  of  beauty,  I  have  come  to  take 
the  prize  for  which  I  toiled.  There  are  none  now 
between  us,  no,  not  one.  You  need  not  draw  back 
so  proudly." 

A  bitter,  contemptuous  laugh  rung  out  on  the 
night  air,  and  Inez  folded  her  arms  upon  her  bosom. 

"  Truly,  Padre,  we  are  well  mated !  You  have 
opposed  me,  and  I  thwarted  you!  I  am  your  equal: 
think  you  to  intimidate  me  with  threats?  You 
should  know  better!" 

"  Inez,  listen!  I  leave  this  place  before  many 
days.  My  work  is  finished  here ;  there  are  none  to 
oppose,  and  I  go  elsewhere.  To  Mexico  first,  and 
then  to  Italy.  You  must  go  with  me,  my  proud 
beauty!  I  cannot  leave  you  here!" 

Again  Inez  laughed  her  mocking  laugh.  "  Go 
with  you,  Mio  Padre!  No,  no;  I  must  decline  the 
honor.  The  hour  of  settlement  has  come!  Al- 
phonso  Mazzolin,  for  long  you  have  plotted  my  de- 
struction; and  one  by  one  removed  every  obstacle 
in  your  way,  and  smoothed  my  path  to  ruin!  I 
have  known  this — silently  I  have  watched  you  ma- 
noeuvre. You  counseled  Mafiuel;  you  flattered  him, 
encouraged  his  hasty  course  and  overbearing  man- 
ner, and  caused  the  rupture  between  us.  You  knew 
my  nature,  and  foresaw  the  result.  You  thought  to 
secure  me  within  the  walls  of  yonder  gloomy  con- 
vent, and  hoped  that  in  time  my  broad  lands  would 
bless  and  enrich  your  holy  church!  But,  Padre,  I 
did  not  fancy  the  home  prepared  for  me  in  San  Jose. 
I  promised  to  comply  with  my  father's  wish,  and 


250  INEZ  J  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

fulfill  the  engagement,  much  to  your  surprise  and 
chagrin.  Padre,  I  would  have  married  Mafiuel, 
sooner  than  second  your  plans.  I,  too,  foresaw  the 
tempest  that  even  now  howls  over  us.  It  was 
my  only  hope,  and  I  said,  who  may  predict  the 
chances  of  war  ?  The  Americans  may  yet  number 
the  most  here,  and  then  your  power  will  be  at  an 
end.  Seemingly  I  was  passive,  but  you  are  thwarted. 
We  stand  face  to  face,  and  I  scorn  you,  incarnate 
devil  as  you  are.  How  dared  you  do  as  you  have 
done  ?  Mine  eyes  are  opened — you  can  no  longer 
deceive  me  with  your  lying  legends  and  the  marvel- 
lous traditions  of  your  country.  I  tell  you,  I  hate 
you  with  an  everlasting  hate.  You  have  led  me  far 
from  God,  if  there  be  a  God,  and  may  my  curse  fol- 
low you,  even  to  your  grave !" 

Fiercely  the  glowing  face  was  bent  upon  him. 
Hate,  scorn,  bitterness  of  heart,  and  utter  desolation 
mingled  strangely  in  the  withering  glance.  The 
Padre  seized  her  arm  and  hoarsely  exclaimed : 

"  We  know  each  other  now;  no  matter,  you  can- 
not escape  me;  if  force  be  necessary  to  take  you 
hence,  I  can  command  it  at  any  moment.  You 
know  full  well  my  word  is  law;  resist  not,  nor  fur- 
ther rouse  me — there  is  no  help  for  you  save  in  sub- 
mission. I  will  not  leave  you." 

"  Ere  I  follow  you  hence,  yonder  river  shall  close 
over  my  body.  I  tell  you  now  I  will  not  accompany 
you." 

He  stepped  to  the  door  and  whistled  faintly.     The 


INEZ;  A  TALE   OF  THE   ALAMO  2$I 

next  moment  a  black- browed  soldier  stood  before 
them. 

"  Herrara,  she  has  broken  her  promise — she  re- 
fuses to  enter  a  convent,  and  she  defies  me,  and 
scorns  our  holy  church.  I  somewhat  expected  this ; 
and  I  charge  you  now,  suffer  her  not  to  pass  the 
threshold  of  her  own  room;  guard  well  the  door, 
there  is  no  window.  See  you,  Inez,  you  can  not 
escape  me  ?" 

He  whispered  in  the  intruder's  ear,  and,  promising 
to  come  again  the  ensuing  day,  left  the  house,  care- 
fully closing  the  door  after  him.  Lighting  his  cigar- 
rita,  Herrara  requested  Inez  to  seek  her  own  apart- 
ment, that  he  might  secure  the  door  outside,  and 
then  return  to  the  fire.  Without  a  word  she  as- 
cended the  stairs  to  her  own  room.  A  chain  was 
passed  about  the  door,  and  then  the  retreating  steps 
of  the  soldier  died  away. 

What  should  she  do  ?  Inez  sat  down  to  collect  her 
thoughts,  and  looked  round  the  apartment.  The 
walls  were  of  solid  rock,  and  in  one  corner  was  a 
small  grating  of  four  iron  bars,  which  admitted  light 
and  air,  but  precluded  all  hope  of  escape  in  that 
quarter.  The  door  was  secured,  and  no  means  of 
egress  presented  itself.  Her  eye  rested  on  her 
lamp,  and  a  smile  lit  up  the  dark  countenance  of  the 
prisoner.  She  threw  herself  on  her  bed;  slowly  the 
hours  rolled — midnight  came  at  last.  She  rose  and 
listened — no  stir,  no  sound  of  life  reached  her ;  she 
glanced  at  her  lamp,  now  dim — the  light  was  waning, 
and  softly  stepping  across  the  room,  she  drew  from 


252          INEZ;  A  TALE  or  THE  ALAMO. 

a  basket  several  bundles  of  papers.  These  she  tore 
in  pieces,  and  placing  them  beside  the  door,  drew  the 
lamp  near.  Inez  carefully  twisted  up  her  long  black 
hair,  and  placed  on  her  head  a  broad  sombrero, 
which  the  Don  had  worn  of  late;  then  taking  his 
Mexican  blanket,  she  slipped  her  head  through  the 
opening,  and  suffered  it  to  fall  to  her  feet.  Some- 
thing seemed  forgotten,  and  after  some  little  search 
she  found  a  small  cotton  bag,  into  which  she  dropped 
a  polonce,  then  secured  it  beneath  the  blanket. 
Queerly  enough  she  looked,  thus  accoutred ;  but  ap- 
parently the  oddity  of  her  appearance  never  once 
crossed  her  mind,  for,  stepping  across  the  floor,  she 
held  the  pieces  of  paper  over  the  lamp  till  ignited, 
then  quickly  thrust  them  one  by  one  between  the 
small  crack  or  chink  in  the  centre  of  the  door.  It 
was  of  wood,  old  and  dry,  and  caught  like  tinder. 
She  watched  it  burn ;  the  door  was  narrow,  and  the 
devouring  element  soon  consumed  all  save  the  top 
and  bottom  pieces  which  extended  across.  These 
quivered  as  their  support  crumbled  beneath  them, 
and  soon  would  fall  with  a  crash.  She  watched  her 
time,  and  gathering  dress  and  blanket  closely  about 
her,  sprang  through,  and  though  almost  suffocated 
with  smoke,  hurried  down  to  a  small  door  at  the 
rear  of  the  house.  She  stood  without  and  listened; 
Inez  fancied  she  heard  the  crackling  of  the  fire,  yet 
there  was  no  time  to  lose.  Just  before  her  sat  a 
large  stone  vessel  containing  the  soaking  corn  for 
the  morning  tortillos;  drawing  forth  her  bag  she 
filled  it  with  the  swollen  grain,  and  hastened  on  to 


INEZ  J   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  253 

where  a  small  black  horse  was  lassoed,  having  his 
hay  scattered  on  the  ground  beside  him.  It  was 
but  the  work  of  a  moment  to  throw  on  and  fasten 
her  father's  saddle,  which  hung  on  a  neighboring 
tree,  and  loosing  the  hair  lariat,  she  patted  the  pony 

she  had  often  ridden  on  St. 's  day,  and  sprang 

into  the  seat.  Slowly  she  passed  through  the  nar- 
row yard  and  entered  the  street;  pausing,  she 
glanced  up  at  her  window,  and  perceived  through 
the  grating  the  blaze  and  smoke  now  filling  the  va- 
cant room.  Distinctly  the  clank  of  the  chain  fell  on 
her  ear,  and  turning  into  an  alley  she  galloped 
away. 

Inez  knew  it  would  be  impossible  to  pass  over  the 
bridge  and  down  the  Alameda  without  detection, 
for  seven  hundred  Mexican  troops  were  stationed 
on  the  outskirts  of  the  town ;  and,  with  the  celerity 
of  thought,  she  directed  her  way  in  the  opposite  di- 
rection, toward  a  shallow  portion  of  the  river,  occa- 
sionally used  as  a  ford.  Happily  the  distance  was 
short ;  and  urging  her  somewhat  unwilling  horse,  she 
plunged  in.  The  moon  rose  full  and  bright  as  she 
reached  the  opposite  bank;  and  pausing  a  moment, 
she  looked  back  upon  the  sleeping  town.  No  sound 
of  life  fell  on  her  ear;  and  avoiding  the  beaten  track, 
she  turned  her  horse  out  on  the  grass,  and  hastened 
on  toward  the  east,  directing  her  course  so  as  to  pass 
beyond  the  Powder-House,  which  was  dimly  seen  in 
the  distance.  At  a  quick  canter  it  was  soon  passed, 
and  she  pressed  on  to  the  Salado,  some  three  miles 
distant.  Full  well  she  knew  she  would  be  sought  for 


254  INEZ  5  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

when  morning  dawned;  and  with  such  speed  she 
almost  flew  on,  that  sunrise  found  her  many  miles 
from  her  home.  Inez  was  fearless,  or  she  would 
never  have  dared  to  undertake  what  lay  before  her 
Alone,  unprotected,  in  the  guise  of  a  man,  without 
possessing  his  ordinary  means  of  defence,  there  was 
much  to  risk ;  for  Indian  depredations  were  frequent 
and  she  must  traverse  a  wide  waste  of  almost  inter- 
minable length  ere  reaching  any  settlement. 

When  the  sunbeams  played  joyously  about  her 
Inez  stopped  to  rest,  and  eating  a  few  grains  of  her 
treasured  corn,  she  allowed  her  horse  to  graze  a 
short  time  along  the  margin  of  a  stream,  where  the 
grass  was  tender  and  abundant ;  and  then  remount- 
ing, rode  on  somewhat  more  leisurely  than  she  had 
previously  done. 


CHAPTER   XXIX. 

"  To  die,  is  landing  on  some  silent  shore, 
Where  billows  never  beat  nor  tempests  roar  1" 

— Garth. 

SINCE  morning,  Mary  had  lain  in  the  deep,  dream- 
less sleep  of  exhaustion :  and  now  the  leafless  boughs, 
which  waved  to  and  fro  before  her  window,  threw 
long  shadows  aftwart  the  wall  and  across  the  deserted 
yard.  Evening  was  creeping  slowly  on.  Over  the 
wan,  yet  lovely  face  of  the  sleeper  had  come  a 


INEZ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  255 

gradual  change — agonizing,  yet  indescribable.  It 
ever  appears  when  Death  approaches  to  claim  his 
victim,  and  it  seems  as  though  the  shadow  cast  by 
his  black  pinions.  Mary  opened  her  eyes  and  looked 
silently  on  the  sad  group  which  clustered  around  her 
couch.  Mr.  Stewart,  alone  able  to  command  his 
voice,  asked  if  she  was  not  better,  as  she  had  slept 
so  gently. 

"  All  is  well,  Mr.  Stewart — I  have  no  pain;"  and 
her  eye  again  rested  on  Florence.  Long  was  the 
look,  and  full  of  deep,  unutterable  tenderness. 
Feebly  she  extended  her  hand. 

"Florry!" 

Her  cousin  knelt  beside  her,  and  buried  her  face 
in  her  hands.  Mary  laid  hers  on  the  bowed  head. 

"  Dear  Florry,  I  have  little  time  to  stay.  Do  not 
sadden  this  last  hour  with  vain  regrets.  Ah!  my 
cousin,  I  thank  God  that  you  will  be  so  happy.  When 
you  miss  me  from  your  side  you  will  feel  lonely 
enough,  and  your  heart  will  ache  for  me  again.  Yet, 
though  bodily  absent,  I  shall  not  be  far  away,  Florry. 
My  spirit  will  hover  round  the  loved  ones  I  leave  on 
earth.  !  Your  dead,  forming  an  angel-guard,  will 
ever  linger  about  your  earthly  path,  and  in  the  hour 
like  this  will  bear  up  your  spirit  to  God.  Think  not 
of  me  as  resting  in  the  silent  grave.  I  shall  not  be 
there,  but  ever  near  you.  I  do  not  say,  try  to  for- 
get me  and  fix  your  thoughts  on  other  things.  Oh! 
I  beg  you  to  think  of  me  often,  and  of  our  glorious 
reunion  in  heaven !  Florry,  there  is  one  thing  which 
will  stand  between  you  and  me.  My  dear  cousin, 


2  $6  INEZ  J  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

conquer  your  pride,  cast  away  your  haughtiness,  and 
learn  to  lean  on  God,  and  walk  in  accordance  with 
his  law.  Oh !  who  would  exchange  the  hope  of  a 
Christian  for  all  that  worlds  could  offer  ?  One  may 
pass  through  life,  and  do  without  it ;  but  in  the  hour 
of  death  its  claim  is  imperatively  urged,  and  none 
can  go  down  to  the  tomb  in  peace  without  it.  Florry, 
you  said  last  night  it  was  hard  that  I  should  die.  I 
am  not  merely  reconciled,  but  I  am  happy !  Earth 
looks  very  bright  and  joyous,  and  if  I  might  stay, 
my  future  is  attractive  indeed.  Yet  I  know  that  for 
some  good  end  I  am  taken,  and  what  seems  to  you 
so  hard,  is  but  a  blessing  in  disguise.  Oh!  then, 
when  you  are  summoned  away,Lmay  you  feel,  as  I 
now  do,  that  the  arms  of  your  God  are  outstretched 
to  receive  you."  She  held  out  her  hand  to  Mr. 
Stewart,  who  stood  beside  her:  he  clasped  it  in  his. 

"  Cherish  Florry,  and  let  no  shadow  come  between 
you.  It  gives  me  inexpressible  joy  to  know  that 
when  I  am  gone  you  will  be  near  to  love  and  to 
guide  her." 

"  We  will  comfort  and  guide  each  other,  dear 
Mary,  and  oh !  I  pray  God  that  we  may  be  enabled 
to  join  you  in  that  land  of  rest  to  which  you  are 
hastening."  He  fervently  kissed  the  thin  white 
hand  he  held,  and  then  gently  raised  Florence. 
Mary  lifted  her  arms  feebly,  and  they  clasped  each 
other  in  a  long,  last  embrace. 

"  Mary,  my  angel  cousin,  I  can  not  give  you  up. 
Oh!  I  have  never  prized  you  as  I  ought.  Who  will 
love  me  as  you  have  done  ?" 


INEZ  J  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  257 

44  Hnsh,  Florry!"  whispered  the  sinking  voice  of 
the  sufferer.  "  I  am  very,  very  happy — kiss  me, 
and  say  good- by." 

Gently  Dr.  Bryant  took  Florence  from  her  cousin, 
and  then  each  in  turn,  Mrs.  Carlton  and  Aunt  Lizzy, 
bent  over  her;  as  the  latter  turned  away,  Mary  took 
her  hand,  and  drawing  her  down,  murmured : 

"  My  dear  aunt,  forgive  what  may  have  pained 
you  in  my  past  life.  We  have  differed  on  many 
points,  but  we  both  know  there  is  one  God.  Oh ! 
aunt,  in  his  kingdom  may  we  soon  meet  again: 
think  of  me  often,  dear  aunt.  When  I  am  gone  ytra 
will  be  very  lonely,  but  only  for  a  short  period  are 
we  separated." 

Dr.  Bryant  elevated  her  pillow  that  she  might  rest 
more  easily.  She  lifted  her  eyes  to  his  pale  face. 
44  Frank,  will  you  turn  the  sofa  that  I  may  see  the 
sun  set  once  once  more  ?" 

He^moved  it  to  the  west  window,  and  drew  aside 
the  curtain  that  the  golden  beams  might  enter :  she 
could  not  look  out,  for  the  sofa  was  low,  and  sitting 
down  beside  her,  he  passed  his  arm  around  her,  and 
lifted  her  head  to  his  bosom.  For  a  time  she  looked 
out  on  the  brilliant  hues  of  the  setting  sun,  now  just 
visible  above  the  tree  tops.  Slowly  it  sank,  then  dis- 
appeared forever  to  her  vision.  Once  Dr.  Bryant 
had  seen  her  lips  move,  as  in  prayer;  now  the  deep 
blue  eyes  were  again  raised  to  the  loved  face  bend- 
ing over  her. 

44  Long  ago,  I  prayed  to  God  that  I  might  fade 
away  gently,  and  die  a  painless  death.  He  has 


2 §8  INEZ  ;  A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO. 

granted  my  petition.  All  things  seem  very  calm  and 
beautiful — earth  ne'er  looked  so  like  heaven  before; 
yet  how  insignificant  in  comparison  with  the  glories 
which  await  me.  Frank,  if  aught  could  draw  me 
back,  and  make  me  loth  to  leave  this  world,  it  would 
be  my  love  for  you.  Life  would  be  so  bright  passed 
by  your  side.  You  know  the  depth  of  my  love,  yet 
I  may  not  remain.  Frank,  tell  me  that  you  can  give 
me  up  for  a  little  while.  Oh!  can  you  not  say, 
•  God's  will  be  done  ?'  " 

"  Mary,  it  is  a  terrible  trial  to  yield  you  up,  when 
I  looked  forward  so  joyously  to  the  future.  It  is 
hard  to  think  of  the  long,  long  dreary  years  that  are 
to  come,  and  know  that  you  will  not  be  near  me; 
that  I  can  not  see  your  face,  or  hear  your  loved 
tones.  Oh,  Mary,  you  know  not  the  bitterness  of 
this  hour;  yet  I  can  say  God's  will  be  done,  for  I 
have  conquered  my  own  heart,  but  every  earthly  joy 
and  hope  has  passed  away.  To  our  reunion  I.must 
ever  look  as  my  only  comfort,  and  I  pray  God  that 
it  may  be  speedy." 

He  bent  his  head  till  his  lips  rested  on  the  white 
brow,  now  damp  in  death.  Wearily  she  turned  her 
face  toward  his ;  he  clasped  the  wasted  form  tightly 
to  his  heart,  and  kissed  the  pale  lips;  her  fingers 
clasped  his  hand  gently  and  she  whispered,  "  Good- 
by«" 

"  Good-by,  my  darling  Mary! — my  own  angel  one, 
good- by!" 

Again  he  pressed  his  lips  to  hers,  and  then  rested 
her  head  more  easily  upon  his  arm.  The  eyes  closed, 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  259 

and  those  who  stood  watching  her  low,  irregular 
breathing,  fancied  she  slept  again. 

One  arm  was  around  her,  while  the  other  sup- 
ported the  drooping  head.  Her  beautiful  brown  hair 
fell  over  his  arm,  and  left  exposed  the  colorless  face. 
She  was  wasted,  yet  beautiful  in  its  perfect  peace 
and  joy  was  the  expression  which  rested  on  her  fea- 
tures. Dr.  Bryant,  leaning  his  noble  brow  on  herst 
felt  her  spirit  pass  away  in  the  last  sigh  which  es- 
caped her  lips.  Yet  he  did  not  lift  his  head.  Cold 
as  marble  grew  the  white  fingers  which  lingered  in 
his,  still  he  clasped  her  tightly.  He  sat  with  closed 
eyes,  communing  with  his  own  saddened  heart ;  he 
was  stilling  the  agony  which  welled  up,  and  casting 
forth  the  bitterness  which  mingled  darkly  with  hi* 
grief,  and  he  said  unto  his  tortured  soul:  •'  Be  still! 
my  treasure  is  laid  up  in  heaven." 

He  lifted  the  hair  from  his  arm,  and  gently  drew 
his  hand  from  hers;  yet,  save  for  the  icy  coldness  of 
her  brow,  none  would  have  known  that  the  soul 
which  lent  such  gentle  loveliness  to  the  countenance 
had  flown  home  to  God. 

Dr.  Bryant  pressed  a  last  kiss  on  the  closed  eyes 
and  marble  brow,  softly  laid  her  on  her  pillow,  and 
left  the  room, 


200  INEZ  J  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

*  ALL  things  are  dark  to  sorrow,"  and  the  very 
repose  of  beauty  of  nature  seems  to  the  aching  heart 
a  mockery.  No  violent  bursts  of  grief  had  followed 
Mary's  death,  for  so  peaceful  and  painless  was  her 
end,  it  was  scarce  allowable.  Yet  now  that  she  had 
been  consigned  to  the  quiet  grave,  a  dreary  sense  of 
loneliness  and  desolation  crept  to  the  hearts  of  the 
saddened  group.  They  stood  assembled  at  the  door 
of  their  new  home,  to  bid  adieu  to  Dr.  Bryant.  In 
vain  had  been  his  sister's  tears  and  entreaties,  and 
Mr.  Carlton's  expostulations.  Florence  had  clasped 
his  "hand,  and  asked  in  trembling  accents,  why  he 
left  them  in  their  sorrow,  and  Mr.  Stewart  implored 
him  not  to  seek  death  on  the  battle-field. 

Firm  in  his  purpose,  naught  availed.  He  stood 
upon  the  step  ready  to  depart ;  his  noble  face  was 
very  pale,  and  grief  had  touched  with  saddening 
finger  every  lineament.  Yet  his  tone  and  mien  were 
calm  as  usual. 

**  My  dear  sister,"  said  he,  "  in  times  like  these  a 
man  should  first  regard  duty — the  laws  and  precepts 
of  his  God!  then  the  claims  of  his  suffering  country; 
and  lastly,  the  ties  of  nature  and  the  tenderer  feel- 
ings of  his  heart.  Ellen,  think  how  many  have  torn 
themselves  from  weeping  wives  and  clinging  chil- 
dren, and  cast  their  warm  love  far  from  them.  The 
call  to  patriots  is  imperative.  I  have  now  nothing 


INEZ  J  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  26l 

to  detain  me  here:  it  is  my  duty  to  lend  my  arm 
toward  supporting  our  common  liberty.  Do  not  fear 
for  me,  Ellen,  my  dear  sister;  remember  that  the 
strong  arm  of  all-seeing  God  is  ever  around  us,  to 
guard  in  time  of  danger!"  He  clasped  her  tenderly 
to  his  heart,  then  placed  her  in  her  husband's  arms. 

"  Florence,  if  not  again  in  Texas,  I  hope  we  shall 
soon  meet,  in  more  peaceful  hours,  in  Louisiana;  if 
not,  I  pray  God  that  you  and  Stewart  may  be  as 
happy  as  I  once  hoped  to  be."  He  pressed  her  hand 
warmly,  and  returning  the  long,  tight  clasp  of  Mr. 
Stewart,  mounted  his  horse  and  rode  slowly  away. 

"  Mother,"  said  Elliot, "  Uncle  Frank  has  not  taken 
the  right  road  toward  home." 

*'  Hush,  Elliot !"  she  sadly  answered,  while  her  tears 
gushed  anew;  "  he  has  gone  by  his  Mary's  grave." 

On  that  hour,  spent  at  the  early  tomb  of  the 
"loved  and  lost  "  Mary,  we  will  not  intrude:  it  is 
rendered  sacred  by  its  deep,  unutterable  anguish. 

Nearly  a  week  passed,  and  Dr.  Bryant  had  hurried 
on,  riding  through  the  long,  long  nights,  and  only 
pausing  at  times  to  recruit  his  jaded  steed.  He  had 
arrived  at  within  two  days'  ride  of  San  Antonio, 
and  too  wearied  to  proceed,  stopped  as  night  closed 
in,  and  picketing  his  horse  wrapped  his  cloak  about 
him,  and  threw  himself  under  a  large  spreading  oak 
to  rest,  and,  if  possible,  to  sleep.  An  hour  passed 
on :  still  he  lay  looking  up  to  the  brilliant  sky  above. 
Perfect  quiet  reigned  around,  and  he  felt  soothed 
inexpressibly.  Overcome  with  fatigue,  sleep  stole 
on,  and  momentary  oblivion  of  the  past  was  granted. 


262  INEZ  J  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

He  was  startled  from  his  slumber  by  the  neighing  of 
his  horse;  and  rising  lightly  drew  forth  his  pistols, 
cocked  one,  and  turned  in  the  direction  whence 
came  the  sound  of  approaching  hoofs.  The  neigh- 
ing was  answered  by  the  advancing  steed,  and  soon 
the  figure  of  both  rider  and  horse  was  dimly  seen; 
for  the  moon  was  not  yet  risen,  and  the  pale  light  of 
the  stars  but  faintly  assisted  the  vision. 

"  Who  comes  there  ?"  asked  Dr.  Bryant,  throwing 
off  his  cloak,  and  stepping  up  to  the  stranger. 

"A  peaceful  Mexican,  in  search  of  cows,  and 
some  twenty  sheep  which  strayed  away.  I  think, 
from  your  voice,  you  are  an  Americano.  I  am 
friendly  to  your  people — you  will  not  molest  me,  and 
I  will  not  harm  you." 

44  My  friend,  I  rather  doubt  your  word.  These 
are  stormy  times  for  a  man  to  venture  out  in  search 
of  cattle,  so  far  from  San  Antonio." 

44 1  could  tell  you  a  piece  of  news  that  would  satisfy 
you  that  I  run  less  risk  than  yourself.  But,  stranger, 
it's  not  civil  to  doubt  a  man's  word,  and  make  him 
an  enemy  whether  he  will  or  not." 

44 1  am  willing  to  receive  your  proffered  proof  of 
sincerity,  and  hope  to  find  you  unlike  your  fickle 
nation.  Come,  tell  the  news  which  sanctions  this 
long  ramble  of  yours.  These  are  dark  days,  and  it 
becomes  every  man  to  look  well  to  his  own  safety, 
and  likewise  watch  his  neighbor's  movements." 

4*  I  will  do  you  a  kindness,  stranger;  turn  your 
horse's  head,  and  let  moon-rise  find  you  where  you 
drank  water  at  noon.  San  Antonio  is  no  place  for 


INEZ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.          263 

Americans  now.  Santa  Anna  has  taken  the  Alamo; 
and  all  of  your  people  lie  low.  Not  one  was  spared 
to  carry  the  tale  to  Austin — no,  not  one !" 

Dr.  Bryant  groaned  in  spirit,  and  his  extended 
arm  sunk  to  his  side. 

"  O  God !  hast  thou  forsaken  us  ?  Surely  thou  wilt 
yet  listen  to  the  voice  of  justice  and  liberty,"  he 
murmured  to  himself,  and  there  was  a  pause. 

"  How  long  since  the  ill-fated  Alamo  fell  ?"  he  in- 
quired. 

"  Five  days  ago.  Hintzilopotchli  came  down  and 
held  his  bloody  feast  and  cut  off  many  brave  men." 

"  By  what  force  was  the  fortress  assaulted  ?" 

"  Seven  thousand  men,  led  by  the  great  and  vic- 
torious Santa  Anna.  Not  long  lasted  the  strife :  we 
were  too  many  for  your  people,  and  the  fight  was 
short." 

"  And  was  our  noble  Travis  slaughtered  with  his 
brave  band  ?" 

"  He  was  too  brave  to  live.  Think  you  he  would 
survive  his  comrades  ?  No!  he  fell  first,  and  then  all 
followed." 

"  Will  Santa  Anna  march  to  Austin  think  you;  or, 
content  with  victory,  remain  in  your  town  ?" 

"  Truly,  you  give  me  credit  for  few  brains  and  a 
woman's  tongue.  I  have  told  you  one  true  tale,  can 
you  expect  another  from  a  fickle  Mexican  ?  I  tell 
you  now,  stranger,  push  me  not  too  closely,  if  you 
would  hear  what  is  good  for  you." 

"  Your  voice  sounds  strangely  familiar;  yet  I  can- 
not recognize  it  sufficiently  to  know  with  whom  I  am 


264  INEZ  ;   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

speaking.  If,  as  you  declare,  friendly  to  our  people, 
you  will  not  object  to  giving  your  name.  Perhaps  I 
have  known  you  in  San  Antonio." 

"  We  Mexicans  can  tell  a  friend  across  the  prairie 
— "but  no  matter.  I  am  thinking  we  be  strangers, 
yet  I  am  not  ashamed  of  my  name.  They  call  me 
Antoine  Amedo — did  you  ever  hear  of  such  an 
'  hombre  ?'  My  ranch  is  just  below  the  mission  San 
Jose,  and  I  have  large  flocks  of  sheep  and  cattle." 

"  Antoine  Amedo/'  repeated  Dr.  Bryant,  mus- 
ingly, and  striving,  through  the  gloom,  to  scan  his 
features.  "  You  are  right ;  I  do  not  know  you, 
though  your  voice  is  familiar." 

"  If  you  have  no  objection,  Sefior  Americano,  I 
will  let  my  horse  picket  awhile,  and  rest  myself;  for 
I  have  ridden  many  miles  since  sunrise,  and  not  a 
*  barego '  have  I  smelled." 

"  You  are  at  liberty  to  rest  as  long  as  you  please: 
consult  your  own  inclinations."  And  he  turned 
away  to  his  own  horse,  yet  marked  that  the  new 
comer  dismounted  with  some  difficulty. 

He  changed  his  own  picket,  that  fresh  grass  might 
not  be  wanting;  and  returning  to  the  tree,  leaned 
against  its  huge  body,  and  watched  the  movements 
of  the  intruder.  They  were  very  slow,  as  if  he  were 
well-nigh  spent  with  over-exertion.  He  took  off  his 
broad  hat,  smoothed  his  hair,  then  replaced  it ;  ad- 
justed his  heavy  blanket  more  comfortably,  and 
drawing  forth  a  sort  of  wallet,  proceeded  to  satisfy 
the  cravings  of  hunger.  He  ate  but  little,  and  re- 
turning the  bag  or  sack  to  its  hiding-place  in  the 


INEZ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  265 

broad  girdle  which  was  passed  about  his  waist  be- 
neath the  blanket,  stretched  himself  on  the  ground, 
with  not  even  a  straggling  bough  between  him  and 
the  deep  blue  vault  of  heaven. 

No  sound  broke  the  silence,  save  the  cropping  of 
the  horses  as  they  grazed  near;  and,  seeking  again 
his  grassy  couch,  Dr.  Bryant  closed  his  eyes,  and 
communed  with  his  own  heart.  Sleep  was  now  im- 
possible, and  he  iay  so  rapt  in  thought,  that  time 
flew  on  unheeded.  The  moon  was  shining  brightly 
now,  and  every  object  was  distinctly  seen.  He 
heard  the  rustling  of  leaves  and  the  crush  of  grass. 
A  moment  he  opened  his  eyes,  then  closed  them,  and 
feigned  sleep. 

The  Mexican  had  risen,  and  softly  approaching 
the  motionless  form,  knelt  on  the  ground  beside  him, 
and  listened  to  his  breathing.  It  was  low  and  reg- 
ular, as  one  in  quiet  slumber.  He  bent  and  gazed 
into  the  up-turned  face — not  a  muscle  quivered  or  a 
feature  moved.  Stealthily  a  hand  crept  round  the 
collar  of  the  cloak,  and  lifted  a  heavy  lock  of  the 
raven  hair.  Smoothing  it  out  on  the  grass,  he  drew 
forth  a  crooked  blade,  which,  in  accordance  with  the 
custom  of  his  countrymen,  ever  hung  in  the  girdle 
passed  about  the  waist.  It  glittered  in  the  moon- 
light ;  and  with  dexterous  hand  he  cut  the  lock  of 
hair:  then,  returning  the  knife  to  its  resting-place, 
rose,  and  noiselessly  retreating  to  his  former  posi- 
tion, some  yards  distant,  threw  himself  down  to 
sleep. 

Dr.  Bryant,  fully  conscious  of  every  movement, 


266  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

determined,  if  possible,  to  solve  this  mystery.  His 
pistols  were  in  readiness,  and,  had  violence  been  at- 
tempted, he  would  have  sprung  to  his  feet  and  de- 
fended himself.  He  waited  awhile,  then  turned, 
stretched,  yawned,  and  finally  rose  up.  He  drew 
out  his  watch,  the  hand  pointed  to  two.  He  wound 
it  up,  and  drawing  his  cap  closer  about  his  ears,  for 
the  night  was  cold,  approached  his  companion  and 
stirred  him  with  his  foot.  No  sound  or  movement 
indicated  consciousness ;  he  stooped  and  shook  him. 

"  Antoine,  Antoine,  get  up  my  friend :  you  don't 
intend  to  spend  the  night  here,  do  you  ?" 

Amedo  sat  upright,  and  rubbed^his  eyes  with  well- 
feigned  sleepiness :  "  Well,  Sefior  Americano,  what 
is  it — Indians  smelling  about  ?" 

Dr.  Bryant  could  not  repress  a  smile  at  the  drowsy 
tone  of  the  ranchero,  who  scarce  five  minutes  before 
had  crept  from  his  side. 

"  Upon  my  word,  you  seem  a  match  for  the  seven 
sleepers  of  old.  Why,  man,  if  Indians  had  stumbled 
on  you  by  chance,  they  had  slung  your  scalp  on  yon- 
der bough.  In  times  like  these  men  should  slumber 
lightly." 

"  Very  true,  Senor;  yet  mine  eyes  are  heavy,  for 
two  moons  have  seen  me  riding  on.  But  you  are 
up!  wherefore  ?" 

"  I  proceed  on  my  journey,  and  wakened  you  to 
ask  advice  and  direction,  and  request  your  company 
if  it  be  that  we  take  the  same  route." 

"  Jesu   Maria !     One  might   think  the  man  had 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE   ALAMO.  26/ 

choice !  Why,  turn  your  horse's  head,  and  rest  for 
naught  but  grass  and  water." 

The  Mexican  had  risen,  and  in  adjusting  his 
blanket,  a  sudden  gust  of  wind  lifted  his  hat,  and 
it  Tell  to  the  ground  at  his  feet ;  he  clutched  at  it 
convulsively,  but  it  was  too  late.  Dr.  Bryant  started 
back  in  astonishment: 

"  Inez!" 

The  head  sunk  on  her  bosom,  and  the  hair  which 
had  been  confined  at  the  back  of  her  head,  fell  in 
luxuriant  masses  to  her  waist. 

"  Fearless,  yet  unfortunate  girl !  what  has  led  you 
to  this  freak  ?" 

A  singular  group  they  presented,  standing  on  the 
broad  and  seemingly  boundless  prairie — the  March 
wind  moaning  through  the  old  oaks,  and  rustling  the 
brown  grass.  The  moon  shone  full  upon  them ;  Dr. 
Bryant,  with  his  large  cloak  wrapt  closely  about 
him,  and  the  black  cap  drawn  over  his  brow — sur- 
prise, reproach,  pity,  and  chagrin  strangely  blended 
in  his  gaze.  One  arm  was  folded  over  the  broad 
chest,  the  other  hung  by  his  side.  Inez  stood  just 
before  him,  her  beautiful  head  bent  so  that  the  black 
locks  well-nigh  concealed  her  features.  Her  father's 
large  variegated  blanket  hung  loosely  about  the 
tall,  slender  form.  At  her  feet  lay  the  hat,  crushed 
by  the  extended  foot,  and  quivering  in  the  night 
wind,  her  hands  tightly  clasped. 

"  Inez,  you  crouch  like  a  guilty  being  before  me! 
Surely  you  have  done  nothing  to  blush  for.  Yet 
stranger  step  was  never  taken  by  a  reasonable  be- 
Vol.  6  L— Evans 


268  INEZ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

ing.  Inez,  raise  your  head,  and  tell  me  what  in- 
duced you  to  venture  in  this  desolate  region,  alone, 
unprotected  and  in  disguise  ?" 

Inez  lifted  slowly  the  once  beautiful  face,  now 
haggard  and  pale.  Anguish  of  spirit  had  left  its  im- 
press on  her  dark  brow,  wrinkled  by  early  care. 
Mournful  was  the  expression  of  the  large,  dark  eyes 
raised  to  his  face : 

"  Dr.  Bryant,  I  am  alone  in  the  wide,  wide  world 
—there  is  none  to  protect — none  to  care  for  me  now! 
My  father  sleeps  by 'Manuel's  side,  in  the  church- 
yard, and  I  am  the  last  of  my  house.  The  name  of 
De  Garcia,  once  so  proud  and  honored,  will  become 
a  by- word  for  desolation  and  misery !  I  have  said 
cursed  was  the  hour  of  my  birth,  and  I  now  say 
blessed  is  the  hour  of  my  last  sleep !  You  see  me 
here  from  necessity,  not  choice,  for  all  places  would 
be  alike  to  me  now;  but  I  have  been  driven  from 
my  lonely  hearth — I  dared  not  stay,  I  flew  to  this 
dreary  waste  for  peace — for  protection!  There  is 
no  rest,  no  peace  for  me.  Not  one  is  left  to  whom 
I  can  say,  guard  and  keep  me  from  harm!  Alone, 
friendless,  in  this  wide,  bitter  world !" 

"  Your  language  is  strangely  ambiguous,  Inez ! 
Can  you  not  explicitly  declare  what  danger  threat- 
ens, and  believe  that  all  I  can  do  to  avert  evil  will 
gladly  be  done  ?" 

"  Dr.  Bryant,  the  Padre  is  my  most  inveterate 
enemy!  Is  not  this  sufficient  to  account  for  my 
presence  here  ?" 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO.  269 

"  Unfortunate  girl !  how  have  you  incurred  that 
man's  hatred  ?" 

"  It  is  a  long  tale  and  needless  to  repeat;  enough, 
that  he  plotted  my  ruin — that  the  strong,  silent 
walls  of  a  far-off  convent  was  my  destination.  And 
why  ?  That  my  flocks  and  lands  might  enrich  his 
precious  church!  You  look  wonderingly  upon  me; 
strange  language,  this,  I  think  you  say,  for  a  lamb  of 
his  flock.  How  dare  you  speak  so  irreverently  of 
the  holy  man,  consecrated  priest  of  Rome  as  he  is  ? 
Dr.  Bryant,  I  am  no  Catholic,  nor  have  I  been  since 
you  have  known  me.  It  was  my  policy  to  appear 
passive.  I  attended  mass,  and  sought  the  confes- 
sional, and  all  the  while  cursed  him  in  my  heart.  I 
watched  him,  and  saved  your  people  from  destruc- 
tion. Would  you  know  how  ?  I  heard  whispered 
promises  to  meet  at  dead  of  night.  I  followed ;  I 
saw  the  meeting  between  an  emmissary  of  Santa 
Anna  and  my  godly  Padre.  At  imminent  risk  I 
listened  to  their  plot.  You  were  to  be  kept  in  ignor- 
ance of  the  powerful  force  hurrying  on  to  destroy 
you.  Santa  Anna  was  to  burst  suddenly  upon  the 
town,  and,  ere  you  could  receive  reinforcements, 
capture  the  Alamo  at  a  blow.  Once  in  his  posses- 
sion, more  than  one  of  your  people  were  to  be  handed 
over  to  the  tender  mercies  of  my  holy  confessor.  I 
warned  you  of  your  danger,  and  happily  you  heeded 
the  signs  of  the  time;  else  you,  too,  would  now 
moulder  beneath  the  walls  of  the  Alamo.  His  prey 
escaped  him,  and  with  redoubled  eagerness  he  sought 
to  consummate  my  destruction.  I  was  made  a  prift- 


2/0  INEZ  ;   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

oner  in  my  own  home  ere  the  sod  settled  on  my 
father's  grave!  I  fled  in  the  midnight  hour,  and 
you  see  me  here!  Dr.  Bryant,  I  well-nigh  cut  short 
the  knotted  thread  of  my  life ;  but  one  thing  saved 
me,  else  my  body  would  even  now  whirl  along  the 
channel  of  the  river.  When  I  parted  from  the 
blue-eyed,  sainted  Mary,  she  gave  me  this  book  and 
asked  me  not  only  to  read  but  follow  its  teachings. 
She  clasped  my  hand,  and  told  me  to  remember 
God  and  the  eternity  which  awaited  me,  and  the 
judgment  of  that  other,  final  world.  Oh!  if  there 
be  a  heaven  and  a  purgatory !  a  God  and  a  judge ! 
if  I  sink  to  perdition,  one  alone  is  to  blame.  He  told 
me  he  had  power  to  forgive  my  sins ;  that  the  more 
completely  I  obeyed  him  on  earth  the  more  blessed 
I  should  be  in  heaven.  Yet  I  have  heard  him  lie, 
and  seen  him  set  aside  the  rules  of  humanity  and  the 
laws  of  God !  Mary's  Bible  tells  me  *  to  keep  holy 
the  Sabbath  day.'  Yet  from  my  childhood,  I  have 
seen  our  Priests  at  mass  on  Sabbath  morning,  and  at 
monte  and  cock-fights  on  the  evening  of  the  same 
day !  And  I  have  seen  them  take  from  the  widow, 
as  the  burial-fee  of  her  husband,  the  last  cow  she 
possessed.  I  saw  these  things  and  I  said  there  is  no 
God,  or  he  would  not  suffer  such  as  these  to  minister 
as  his  chosen  servants  upon  the  earth.  I  said  in  my 
heart,  purgatory  is  but  a  lie  made  to  keep  pace  with 
their  marvellous  legends  and  frequent  miracles! 
There  is  not  a  purgatory,  or  they  would  fear  the  re- 
tribution in  store  for  them.  I  had  none  to  teach  me 
aright.  I  mocked  at  the  thought  of  religion.  I  said 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  2/1 

there  is  none  on  the  earth — it  is  merely  a  system  of 
gain,  and  all  that  constitutes  the  difference  is,  that 
some  are  by  nature  more  of  devils,  and  others  gifted 
with  milder  hearts.  But  I  saw  Mary — pure  angel 
that  she  is — I  saw  her  with  the  sick  and  the  dying; 
she  railed  not  at  our  priest,  as  he  at  her.  She  car- 
ried her  Bible  to  the  bed  of  death,  and  told  them  to 
look  to  God  for  themselves.  She  bade  them  leave 
off  saint- worship  and  cling  to  Jesus  as  their  only 
Mediator.  Peace  followed  her  steps,  and  much  good 
she  would  have  done,  but  my  Padre  interfered,  per- 
emptorily ordered  all  good  Papists  to  shun  her  as 
they  would  an  incarnate  demon,  and  frightened 
many  into  submission  with  his  marvellous  tales  and 
threats  of  purgatory.  I  said  to  myself,  if  there  be 
truth  in  God  and  religion,  this  Mary  walketh  in  the 
right  path,  for  like  an  angel  of  mercy  and  light  she 
ever  seems.  She  was  the  hope,  the  joy,  the  blessing 
of  all  who  knew  her.  Oh !  I  will  come  to  you,  Mary, 
and  learn  of  you,  and  die  near,  that  you  may  be  with 
me  in  the  hour  of  rest." 

Inez  sank  on  the  ground,  and  burying  her  face  in 
her  arms,  rocked  herself  to  and  fro.  Dr.  Bryant 
had  listened  to  her  rambling,  incoherent  language, 
like  one  in  a  dream,  till  the  name  of  Mary  passed 
her  lips,  and  then  his  head  sank  upon  his  chest,  and 
he  groaned  in  the  anguish  of  his  tortured  spirit. 

Inez  held  in  one  hand  the  small  Bible  given  at 
parting;  his  eye  fell  upon  it,  and  he  stepped  nearer 
to  her: 

"  Inez,  the  Mary  you  have  loved  reets  no  longer 


272  INEZ  5   A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO. 

on  earth.  She  has  passed  away,  and  dwells  in 
heaven.  She  was  true  to  God,  and  his  holy  law,  and 
great  is  her  reward.  Scarce  a  week  since  I  laid  her 
in  her  quiet  grave,  yet  not  there  either,  but  yielded 
her  up  the  arms  of  God !" 

He  paused,  for  his  deep  tone  faltered.  Inez  rose 
quickly  to  her  feet  as  he  spoke,  and  gazed  vacantly 
on  his  face. 

"  Mary  gone  forever!  Mary  in  heaven!  Shall 
I  never  again  see  her,  sweet  angel  of  truth  and 
purity,  with  her  soft  blue  eyes,  so  full  of  holy  love 
and  gentleness  ?  Oh,  Mary,  thou  art  blessed !  thou 
art  at  rest!  When  shall  I,  too,  find  eternal  rest? 
Ere  long,  Mary,  I,  too,  will  sleep  the  last,  unbroken, 
dreamless  sleep!" 

Dr.  Bryant  laid  his  hand  on  the  sacred  volume, 
and  would  have  drawn  it  from  her  clasp;  but  tight- 
ening her  hold,  she  shook  her  head,  and  mournfully 
exclaimed : 

"  No,  no;  it  is  mine!  When  I  die,  it  shall  be  my 
pillow;  while  I  live,  it  rests  near  my  heart,  and  in 
the  church-yard  I  will  not  let  it  go.  You  have  no 
right  to  claim  it :  you  have  not  loved  her  as  I  have 
done.  She  loved  you,  yet  you  needed  not  the  jewel 
that  might  have,  even  now,  been  your  own!" 

"  Inez,  I  have  loved — I  do  love  her,  as  none  other 
can !  Too  late  I  found  my  love  returned.  Had  God 
spared  her  to  me,  she  would  have  been  my  wife. 
Oh,  Mary,  Mary!  my  own  cherished  one?  May  thy 
spirit  hover  round  me  now,  as  in  life  thou  wert  my 
guardian  angel!  Inez,  I,  too,  have  suffered,  and 


INEZ  ;   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  273 

severely.  I  have  little  to  anticipate  in  life,  yet  I  am 
not  desponding  as  you,  my  faith  in  God  and  his  tin- 
changing  goodness  is  unshaken.  Let  us  both  so  live 
that  we  may  join  my  Mary  in  glory." 

Inez  answered  not,  but  passed  her  hand  wearily 
across  her  brow. 

"  Inez,  which  will  you  do  ?  retain  your  disguise, 
and  go  with  me,  or  return  to  your  old  home  ?  I  am 
not  going  to  Austin,  but  to  Goliad,  to  join  the 
Texans  there ;  will  you  accompany  me,  and  claim 
the  protection  of  our  banner  ?  All  that  a  brother 
could,  I  will  gladly  do;  with  me  you  are  safe,  at  least 
for  a  time;  and  when  the  storm  of  war  has  passed, 
I  doubt  not  your  home  will  again  be  happy." 

"  I  know  you,  Dr.  Bryant,  and  I  know  that  you  are 
true  to  God,  and  keep  his  law.  I  will  go  with  you 
to  Goliad,  and  there  we  will  decide  what  I  must  do. 
Oh !  I  am  weary  and  sick  at  heart,  and  not  long  will 
I  burden  you." 

She  stooped,  and  picking  up  the  hat,  replaced  it 
on  her  head,  and  turned  toward  her  horse. 

Frank  kindly  took  her  hand. 

"  Inez,  do  not  despond.  I  trust  all  may  yet  be 
well  with  you,  and  rest  assured  it  gives  me  heartfelt 
pleasure  to  be  enabled  to  render  you  a  service,  and 
take  you  to  a  place  of  safety.  But  your  hand  is  hot 
— burning :  it  is  feverish  excitement  from  which  you 
suffer.  When  we  have  reached  Goliad,  and  you  can 
rest,  I  doubt  not  your  strength  and  spirits  will  re- 
turn; meantime  take  one  of  my  pistols,  it  is  loaded^ 
and,  in  case  of  danger,  will  render  good  service." 


274  INEZ  ;  A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO. 

She  took  the  proffered  weapon,  and  having  secured 
it  in  the  girdle  turned  to  mount  her  horse.  Frank 
assisted  in  arranging  the  accoutrements,  and,  spring- 
ing upon  his  own  spirited  steed,  they  turned  their 
faces  southward. 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

''Our  bosoms  we'll  bare  to  the  glorious  strife, 

And  our  oath  is  recorded  on  high, 
To  prevail  in  the  cause  that  is  dearer  than  life, 
Or  crushed  in  its  ruins  to  die. 

*  *  *  *  « 

And  leaving  in  battle  no  blot  on  his  name, 
Look  proudly  to  heaven,  from  the  death-bed  of  fame.* 

Campbell. 

A  BLOODY  seal  was  set  upon  thee,  oh !  Goliad.  A 
gory  banner  bound  around  thy  name ;  and  centuries 
shall  slowly  roll  ere  thou  art  blotted  from  the  mem- 
ory of  man.  The  annals  of  the  dim  and  darkened  past 
afford  no  parallel  for  the  inhuman  deed,  so  calmly, 
so  deliberately  committed  within  thy  precincts ;  and 
the  demon  perpetrator  escaped  unpunished !  A  per- 
fect appreciation  of  the  spirit  of  the  text,  "  Ven- 
geance is  mine,  saith  the  Lord;  I  will  repay,"  alone 
can  sanction  the  apathy  manifested  by  one  to  whom 
the  world  looked  as  the  avenger  of  his  murdered 
countrymen. 


INEZ  ;   A  TALE   OF  THE   ALAMO.  2/5 

Rumors  of  the  fall  of  the  Alamo,  the  overwhelm- 
ing force  of  Santa  Anna,  and  his  own  imminent 
danger,  had  reached  Colonel  Fanning.  In  vain  he 
entreated  reinforcements,  in  vain  urged  the  risk 
hourly  incurred.  The  Texan  councils  bade  him 
save  himself  by  flight.  "  Retreat,  fly  from  the  post 
committed  to  my  keeping!"  The  words  sounded 
like  a  knell  on  the  ear  of  the  noble  man  to  whom 
they  were  addressed.  He  groaned  in  the  anguish 
of  his  spirit,  "  I  will  not  leave  this  fortress — Travis 
fell  defending  with  his  latest  breath  the  Alamo! 
Oh,  Crocket !  Bowie !  can  I  do  better  than  follow  your 
example,  and  give  my  life  in  this  true  cause  ?" 

An  untimely  death — the  separation  and  misery  of 
his  darling  family,  weighed  not  an  atom!  "  Patria 
infelici  fidelis!"  was  ever  his  motto,  and  unfaltering 
was  his  own  step.  There  came  a  messenger  from 
headquarters — "  Abandon  Goliad,  and  retreat!" 

"  Colonel,  you  will  not  sound  a  retreat  ?"  and  Dr. 
Bryant  laid  his  hand  upon  his  commander's  arm. 

"  My  God !  it  is  a  fearful  thing  to  decide  the  des- 
tinies rof  four  hundred  brave  men !  Bryant,  if  we 
remain  it  is  certain  death — the  tragedy  of  San  An- 
tonio will  be  re-acted  in  our  case !" 

"  Colonel,  you  must  remember  the  old  saw — *  He 
that  fights  and  runs  away,  lives  to  fight  another  day," 
said  a  time-worn  ranger,  settling  his  collar  with  per- 
fect nonchalance. 

"  Why,  Furgeson,  do  you  counsel  flight  ?  My 
brave  comrade,  bethink  yourself!" 

"  Well,  Colonel,  it  is  something  strange  for  me  to 


276  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

say  run ;  but  when  I  do  say  it,  I  am  in  earnest.  The 
most  hot-headed  fellow  in  our  company  dare  not  say 
I  lack  courage:  you  know  as  well  as  I  do  what  they 
call  me — '  Bull-dog  Furgeson,'  but  who  feels  like 
fighting  the  grand  devil  himself,  and  his  legion  of 
imps  to  boot  ?  I  am  a  lone  man,  and  have  nothing 
in  particular  to  live  for,  it's  true;  but  it  is  some 
object  with  me  to  do  the  most  service  I  can  for  our 
Lone  blessed  Star !  I  should  like  a  game  with  old 
"  Santy  in  a  clear  ring,  and  fair  play ;  but  I  am  think- 
ing we  had  best  take  French  leave  of  this  place,  and 
join  the  main  body,  where  we  can  fight  with  some 
chance  ahead.  Now  that's  my  opinion,  but  if  you 
don't  believe  that  doctrine,  and  want  to  take  the 
*  old  bull  right  by  the  horns,'  I  say  lets  at  him." 

A  smile  passed  over  the  face  of  his  commander. 

"  Thank  you,  Furgeson,  and  rest  assured  I  shall 
not  doubt  your  stanch  support  in  time  of  need." 

Again  the  broad  brow  contracted,  and,  linking 
his  arm  in  that  of  Dr.  Bryant,  he  paced  to  and  fro, 
engrossed  in  earnest,  anxious  thought.  Pausing  at 
length,  he  pointed  to  his  troops,  awaiting  in  silence 
his  commands. 

Bryant,  at  least  half  those  brave  fellows  have  wives 
and  children,  and  bright  homes,  beckoning  them 
away,  yet  see  them  calmly  trust  to  me  in  this  trying 
hour.  Should  my  order  go  forth  to  man  the  fort, 
and  meet  the  worst,  I  know  full  well  not  a  murmur 
would  be  heard.  Still  it  is  equally  certain  that,  if 
we  brave  the  conflict,  not  one  of  us  shall  survive  to 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  2/7 

tell  the  tale.  What  am  I  to  do  ?  Make  this  a  second 
Thermopylae  ?" 

"  Peculiarly  painful,  I  know  full  well  is  the  situa- 
tion in  which  you  are  placed.  Yet  one  strong  argu- 
ment remains  to  be  urged.  Colonel,  if  we  desert 
Goliad,  and  sound  a  retreat,  we  can  not  escape.  The 
force  of  the  enemy  is  too  powerful,  their  movements 
too  rapid,  to  allow  us  to  retire  to  a  place  of  safety 
without  a  desperate  encounter.  Is  it  not  better 
policy  to  remain  here,  and  meet  the  shock  ?" 

"  If  we  fight  at  all  it  must  be  at  fearful  odds ;  four 
hundred  to  six  thousand !  Yet,  should  I  follow  the 
dictates  of  my  own  heart,  I  would  not  give  one  inch ! 
— no,  not  onej  Dearly  they  should  buy  the  ground 
on  which  I  stand!" 

"  Colonel,  shall  we  not  meet  them  on  this  spot, 
and  lay  down  our  lives,  as  did  our  brethren  of  the 
Alamo  ?" 

"  No,  by  Jove !  I  shall  have  to  leave,  whether  I 
will  or  not !"  And  crumpling  the  note  of  orders,  he 
tossed  it  to  the  ground,  and  pressed  it  with  his  heel. 

He  stepped  forth,  and  drawing  his  military  cap 
about  his  eyes,  folded  his  arms  upon  his  broad  chest, 
and  addressed  his  troops : 

"  Comrades !  Retreat  is  no  test  of  an  army's 
bravery,  neither  the  courage  of  its  commander.  In 
every  age  and  nation,  circumstances  have  occurred 
in  which  the  cause  of  liberty,  or  the  general  welfare 
of  the  state,  has  been  promoted  by  timely  flight 
rather  than  desperate  engagements.  '  The  Swamp 
Fox  '  often  retired  to  his  island  of  refuge,  safe  from 


2/8  INEZ  ;   A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

invading  bands — the  daring  Sumter  was  forced  at 
times  to  retreat;  and  even  our  great  Washington 
fled  from  superior  forces,  and  waited  till  a  more  con- 
venient season.  Fellow-soldiers:  there  is  one  of  two 
steps  to  be  immediately  taken.  We  will  stand  to 
our  post,  and  fall  to  a  man,  like  Travis  and  his  noble 
b.-.nd,  and  our  names  will  go  down  to  posterity  as 
did  the  Spartans  of  old, 

'  Wreathed  with  honor,  and  immortal  fame ;' 

or  else  we  set  out  at  once  for  head- quarters,  con- 
solidate our  forces,  and  march  united  to  oppose  Santa 
Anna. 

"  Comrades,  what  shall  we  do  ?" 

No  sound  was  heard  along  the  ranks,  each  bent 
his  head  and  communed  with  his  own  spirit ;  and 
the  image  of  their  distant,  yet  cherished  homes,  rose 
up  and  murmured — "  Remember  thy  weeping  wife 
and  thy  fair- browed  boy;  who  will  guard  them  when 
thou  art  gone  ?" 

The  eagle  eye  of  their  brave  leader  was  piercingly 
bent  on  the  mute  assemblage ;  the  momentary  gleam 
of  hope  that  lighted  his  noble  countenance  faded 
away.  There  came  a  faint  sound  of  rising  voices — 
it  swelled  louder,  and  louder  still : 

"  God  bless  our  noble  Colonel !  our  brave  Fanning! 
With  him  is  the  issue.  Say  but  the  word,  and  we 
wiH  follow!" 

«'  Bryant,  I  can  not  sign  their  death-warrant !"  he 
said,  in  a  low,  subdued  tone,  sinking  his  head  upon 


INEZ  ;   A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO.  279 

his  breast.  He  lifted  himself  up,  and  raising  his 
voice,  calmly  replied: 

"  Had  I  not  received  orders  to  retreat,  and  if  I 
were  not  fully  aware  that  lingering  here  insured  our 
total  destruction,  I  should  scorn  to  turn  my  back 
upon  Goliad !  Oh !  gladly  I  would  die  in  its  defense ; 
but  your  fate  is  too  entirely  in  my  hands  to  admit  of 
following  my  individual  wishes!  None  know  the 
pang  it  causes  me  to  sound  a  '  Retreat,'  yet  it  may 
be,  that  the  success  of  our  cause  demands  it  at  my 
hands,  and  therefore  I  say,  '  Retreat,  comrades  '* — at 
dawn  to-morrow,  we  move  from  Goliad." 

The  decree  went  forth,  and  the  ensuing  day  saw 
the  doomed  band  moving  eastward  toward  head- 
quarters they  were  destined  never  to  reach. 

On  arriving  at  Goliad,  Dr.  Bryant  had  immediately 
enlisted,  after  placing  Inez  in  safety  at  the  house  of 
an  aged  Sefiora  of  her  nation ;  and  no  sooner  was  it 
decided  to  leave  the  town  the  following  day  than  he 
sought  his  Spanish  friend. 

She  was  sitting  alone  when  he  entered,  and  quickly 
rising,  placed  a  seat  for  him. 

"  Thank  you,  Inez,  I  have  only  a  moment  to  re- 
main— I  come  to  say  good- by." 

"  Which  way  do  your  people  go  now  ?"  she  hoarsely 
asked. 

"Santa  Anna  is  marching  with  overwhelming 
forces  toward  us,  and  Colonel  Fanning  thinks  it  ad- 
visable to  retire  to  headquarters.  We  set  out  at 
dawn  to-morrow." 

"  You  cannot  escape  by  flight :  it  were  better  to 


INEZ  J   A  TALE    OF  THE   ALAMO. 

remain  here.  I  tell  you  now,  if  you  leave  Goliad 
you  will  be  cut  off  to  a  man." 

"  Inez,  my  own  feelings  would  strongly  incline  me 
to  follow  your  advice,  but  it  has  been  decided  other- 
wise!" 

"  Then,  if  you  must  go,  I  go  with  you !" 

"  Impossible,  Inez,  impossible !  you  know  not  what 
you  say !  For  you  to  venture  from  this  place  under 
existing  circumstances,  beset  as  we  are  on  every 
hand  with  dangers  seen  and  unseen,  would  be  the 
height  of  madness." 

"  I  know  not  fear !  of  that  you  must  have  been 
convinced  long  ere  this.  Danger  cannot  intimidate 
me;  what  you  meet  and  suffer,  that  will  I  en- 
counter." 

*  Bethink  yourself,  Inez !  What  can  you  hope  to 
accomplish  by  this  strange  step  ?  You  have  noth- 
ing to  fear  here  from  your  own  nation:  what  can 
you  gain  by  seeking  a  home  among  my  people  ? 
Strange,  mysterious  being,  I  wish  for  your  own  sake 
you  were  timid — that  fear  might  strengthen  your 
sense  of  prudence !" 

Inez  had  bent  her  head  while  he  spoke,  as  in  hu- 
miliation, now  she  lifted  herself  and  said,  in  a  low, 
determined  tone: 

"  I  am  alone  in  the  wide  world,  and  I  have  but 
one  hope,  but  one  pleasure ;  to  be  with  you  while 
life  remains,  and  to  die  near,  that  you  may  close  my 
eyes  and  lay  me  down  to  rest."  She  paused  a  mo- 
ment, and  then  clasping  her  hands,  approached  him, 
and  continued  in  a  more  passionate  tone : 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  28 1 

"  Oh,  if  you  knew  how  I  have  loved  you,  you  could 
not  look  down  so  coldly,  so  calmly  upon  me !  you 
could  not  refuse  the  favor  I  ask!  Oh,  Dr.  Bryant, 
do  not  scorn  me  for  my  love ! — 'tis  not  a  common 
love;  for  it  I  have  lost  every  earthly  comfort  and 
blessing;  for  this  struggled  and  toiled,  and  braved 
numberless  dangers.  I  have  loved  you  better  than 
every  thing  beside !  Turn  not  from  me,  nor  think 
contemptuously  of  the  worship  given  unsought !  If 
you  cannot  love  me,  do  not,  oh,  do  not  despise  me! 
Let  me  a  little  while  longer  be  with  you,  and  see 
you;  I  will  not  trouble  or  incommode  anyone — do 
not  leave  me.  Oh,  Dr.  Bryant,  do  not  leave  me!" 

The  large  black  eyes  were  raised  entreatingly  to 
his,  and  an  expression  of  the  keenest  anguish  rested 
on  her  colorless,  yet  beautiful  face. 

Sadly  he  regarded  her  as  she  hurried  on :  no  glance 
of  scorn  rested  even  for  a  moment  upon  her.  Yet 
a  stern  sorrow  settled  on  his  broad  brow,  and  around 
the  firmly- compressed  lips. 

"  Inez,  I  do  not,  cannot  love  you,  other  than  as 
the  kind  friend  of  other  days.  I  have  never  loved 
but  one — I  never  shall.  Mary,  my  own  angel  Mary, 
ever  rests  in  my  heart.  I  cannot  forget  her — I  can 
never  love  another.  I  do  not  even  thank  you  for 
your  love,  for  your  avowal  gives  me  inexpressible 
pain!  I  have  suspected  this,  Inez,  for  long,  and 
your  own  heart  will  tell  you  I  gave  no  ground 
to  hope  that  I  could  return  your  affection.  I  have 
striven  to  treat  you  like  a  sister  of  late,  yet  this 
painful  hour  has  not  been  averted.  Equally  painful 


282  INEZ  ;  A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO. 

to  both.  Inez,  your  own  words  make  it  more  than 
ever  necessary  that  we  should  part  forever.  I  can- 
not return  your  love — I  will  not  encourage  it.  You 
must,  as  soon  as  safety  allows,  return  to  your  old 
home.  Inez,  do  not  cherish  your  affection  for  me, 
it  can  only  bring  pain  and  remorse ;  forget  me,  and 
remember  that  you  have  imperative  duties  of  your 
own  to  perform.  This  is  your  darkest  hour,  and  be- 
lieve me,  in  time  you  will  be  happy,  and  a  blessing 
to  your  people.  Remember  Mary's  words,  and  her 
parting  gift,  and  I  pray  God  that  we  may  so  live 
that  we  shall  all  meet  in  a  happier  home." 

"  Then  I  shall  never  see  you  again  ?"  she  said,  in 
a  calm  and  unfaltering  voice. 

"  For  your  sake,  Inez,  it  is  best  that  we  should  not 
meet  again.  If  I  survive  this  war  I  go  to  Europe, 
and  you  will  probably  never  see  me  more.  Inez,  I 
pain  you — forgive  me.  Your  own  good  requires  this 
candor  on  my  part." 

An  ashy  paleness  overspread  the  cheek  and  brow 
of  his  companion  as  he  spoke,  and  the  small  hands 
clutched  each  other  tightly,  yet  no  words  passed  the 
quivering  lips. 

"  Good- by,  Inez!  my  kind  and  valued  friend, 
good- by!"  He  held  out  his  hand.  She  raised  her 
head,  and  gazed  into  the  sad  yet  noble  face  of  the 
man  she  had  loved  so  long.  She  clasped  his  hand 
between  both  hers,  and  a  moan  of  bitter  anguish  es- 
caped the  lips. 

"  My  love  will  follow  you  forever!  A  woman  of 
my  nature  cannot  forget.  I  shall  sink  to  eternal 


INEZ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

rest  with  your  name  on  my  lips — your  image  in  my 
heart.  Yet  I  would  not  keep  you  here — go,  and  may 
your  God  ever  bless  you,  and — and — may  you  at  last 
meet  your  Mary,  if  there  be  a  heaven !  We  part 
now,  for  you  have  said  it ;  good-by,  and  sometimes, 
when  all  is  joy  and  gladness  to  you,  think  a  moment 
on  Inez !  the  cursed,  the  miserable  Inez !  sitting  in 
bitter  darkness  by  her  lonely  hearth!  Good-by!'' 
She  pressed  her  lips  to  his  hand,  and  without  a  tear, 
shrouded  her  face  in  her  mantilla  and  turned  away. 
"  God  bless  you,  Inez,  and  keep  you  from  all 
harm !"  and  Dr.  Bryant  left  the  house,  and  returned 
to  his  commander. 

Colonel  Fanning  had  led  his  troops  but  a  few  miles 
when  the  vanguard  halted,  and  some  excitement 
was  manifested.  Spurring  forward,  he  inquired  the 
cause  of  delay. 

"  Why,  Colonel,  if  we  ain't '  out  of  the  frying-pan 
into  the  fire,'  my  name  is  not  Will  Furgeson.  Look 
yonder,  Colonel,  it  takes  older  and  weaker  eyes  than 
mine  to  say  them  ain't  Santy  Anna's  imps  marching 
down  upon  us,  thick  as  bees  just  swarmed  too !" 

"  You  are  right,  Furgeson;  it  is  the  entire  Mexi- 
can force !  let  us  form  at  once  and  meet  them !" 

Quickly  and  clearly  his  orders  rang  out,  and  his 
little  band,  compact  and  firm,  waited  in  silence  the 
result.  With  an  exulting  shout  the  Mexicans 
charged.  Desperately  the  doomed  Texans  fought, 
heaping  up  the  slain  at  every  step.  The  wily  Santa 
Anna  changed  his  tactics.  There  came  a  momen- 


284  INEZ  J  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

tary  cessation  as  the  crowding  thousands  were  furi- 
ously driven  back.  And,  seizing  the  opportunity, 
he  spurred  forward,  offered  honorable  terms,  and 
besought  Fanning  to  surrender  and  save  the  lives  of 
his  brave  followers. 

"  We  will  only  surrender  on  condition  that  every 
privilege  of  prisoners  of  war  be  guaranteed  to  us," 
replied  Colonel  Fanning. 

"  I,  Santa  Anna,  com mander-in- chief  of  the  Mexi- 
can force,  do  most  solemnly  pledge  my  word,  that  all 
the  privileges  consistent  with  your  situation  as  pris- 
oners of  war,  shall  be  extended  to  yourself  and 
men.  And  hereby  swear,  that  on  these  conditions 
you  may  lay  down  your  arms  in  safety,  without  fur- 
ther molestation  on  our  part." 

Is  there  one  of  my  readers,  who,  for  a  moment, 
would  attach  blame  to  the  noble  Fanning  ?  The 
lives  of  his  men  were  of  far  more  importance  to 
him  than  the  renown  of  perishing,  like  Travis,  in  a 
desperate  struggle.  With  the  latter  there  was  no 
alternative,  for  the  cry  of  even  seven  exhausted 
men  for  "  quarter  "  was  disregarded,  and  the  garri- 
son fell  to  a  man.  But  honorable  terms  were  offered 
Fanning;  he  remembered  his  men,  and  surrendered. 
Santa  Anna !  can  there  be  pardon  for  such  a  hard- 
ened wretch  as  you  ?  Does  not  sleep  fly  your  pil- 
low ?  In  the  silent  watches  of  the  night,  do  not 
the  spectre  forms  of  your  victims  cluster  about 
your  couch,  and  the  shambles  of  Goliad  rise  before 
you  ?  Can  you  find  rest  from  the  echoing  shrieks  of 
murdered  thousands,  or  shut  your  eyes  and  fail /to 


INEZ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.          235 

perceive  the  mangled  forms  stiffening  in  death  and 
weltering  in  gore  ?  If  you  are  human,  which  I  much 
doubt,  your  blackened  soul  will  be  tortured  with  un- 
availing remorse,  till  Death  closes  your  career  on 
earth,  and  you  are  borne  to  the  tribunal  of  Almighty 
God,  there  to  receive  your  reward.  .  .  . 

Night  found  the  Texans  again  in  Goliad,  and  they 
sought  sleep  secure  from  evil;  for  had  not  Santa 
Anna's  word  been  given  that  further  molestation 
would  not  be  allowed  ?  and  they  believed !  Soundly 
they  slept,  and  dreamed  of  far-off  homes  and  fireside 
joys. 

"  That  bright  dream  was  their  last  1" 

Sunrise  came,  and  they  were  drawn  out  upon  the 
Plaza.  Their  leader  was  retained  in  custody,  and, 
unsuspicious  of  harm,  they  each  maintained  their 
position.  Dr.  Bryant  raised  his  eyes — they  rested 
for  a  moment  on  Santa  Anna's  face.  Turning 
quickly,  he  shouted  aloud, 

"  Turn,  comrades,  let  us  not  be  shot  in  the  back!" 

Another  moment  the  signal  was  given,  and  a 
deadly  fire  poured  upon  four  hundred  unresisting 
prisoners  of  war,  to  whom  honorable  conditions  had 
been  granted  by  the  brave  and  noble  generalissimo 
of  the  Mexican  forces. 

Not  one  of  many  noble  forms  was  spared.  Dr. 
Bryant  sank  without  a  struggle  to  the  earth ;  and  his 
spirit,  released  from  sorrowing  mortality,  sprang  up 
to  meet  his  Mary  and  his  God ! 

The  deed  was  done ;  and  Santa  Anna,  the  mighty 


286  INEZ  J  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO 

chief  who  mowed  down  four  hundred  unarmed  men 
was  immortalized !  Fear  not,  brave  hearts,  that  pos- 
terity will  forget  you !  Rest  assured  that  the  lapse 
of  time  can  not  obliterate  the  memory  of  your 
mighty  deeds  ! 

Fanning  survived  but  a  few  hours,  and  then  a 
well- aimed  ball  laid  low  forever  his  noble  head. 
Who  among  us  can  calmly  remember  that  his  body 
was  denied  a  burial?  Oh,  thou  martyr  leader  of  a 
martyr  band,  we  cherish  thy  memory!  dear  to  the 
heart  of  every  Texan,  every  American,  every  soldier 
and  every  patriot.  Peace  to  thee,  noble  Fanning! 

It  was  noon !  Still  and  cold  lay  the  four  hundred 
forms  upon  the  Plaza.  Even  as  they  sank,  so  they 
slept.  No  disturbing  hand  had  misplaced  one  stif- 
fened member.  The  silence  of  death  reigned  around 
the  murdered  band.  A  muffled  figure  swiftly  stole 
down  the  now  deserted  streets,  and  hurrying  to  the 
Plaza,  paused  and  gazed  on  the  ruin  and  wreck  that 
surrounded  her.  Pools  of  blood  were  yet  standing, 
and  the  earth  was  damp  with  gore.  One  by  one 
Inez  turned  the  motionless  forms,  still  the  face  she 
sought  was  not  to  be  found.  She  had  almost  con- 
cluded her  search  when  her  eyes  fell  on  a  prostrate 
form,  closely  wrapt  in  along  black  cloak;  she  knelt 
and  gazed  into  the  upturned  face,  and  a  low  cry  of 
bitter  anguish  welled  up  and  passed  her  colorless 
lips.  Gently  she  lifted  the  cloak,  clasped  by  one  icy 
hand ;  the  ball  had  pierced  his  side  and  entered  the 
heart.  So  instantaneous  had  been  his  death  that 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE   OF  THE   ALAMO.  28/ 

not  a  feature  was  convulsed.  The  dark  clustering 
hair  was  borne  back  from  the  broad  white  brow,  the 
eyes  closed  as  in  deep  sleep,  the  finely-cut  lips  just 
parted.  Pallid  was  the  cheek,  yet  calm  and  noble 
beyond  degree  was  the  marble  face  on  which  Inez 
gazed.  She  caught  the  cold  hand  to  her  lips,  and 
laid  her  cheek  near  his  mouth,  that  she  might  know 
and  realize  that  his  spirit  had  indeed  joined  Mary's 
in  the  "  land  of  rest."  The  icy  touch  extinguished 
every  gleam  of  hope,  and  calmly  she  drew  the  cloak 
over  the  loved  face,  concealing  every  feature,  then 
dropped  her  handkerchief  upon  the  covered  head, 
and  drawing  her  mantilla  like  a  shroud  about  her, 
went  her  way  to  wait  for  night  and  darkness. 

Stretched  on  a  couch  in  the  home  of  the  kind- 
hearted  Sefiora  who  had  received  her,  Inez  noted 
the  moments  and  hours  as  they  passed.  An  eternity 
seemed  comprised  in  the  time  which  elapsed  from 
noon  till  dusk.  Again  and  again  she  raised  her 
bowed  head  and  looked  out  on  the  slowly  sinking 
sun.  It  passed  at  length  beyond  her  vision.  She 
rose  and  sought  her  friend,  an  aged  dame,  whom 
God  had  gifted  with  a  gentle  heart,  keenly  alive  to 
the  grief  and  sufferings  of  another. 
"  Well,  Sefiora  Inez,  what  will  you  have  ?" 
"  I  have  a  great  favor  to  ask,  yet  it  is  one  I  doubt 
not  will  be  granted.  Sefiora,  among  yonder  slain  is 
one  who  in  life  was  ever  kind  to  me  and  to  our 
people.  Since  morning  he  has  lain  in  his  own  blood ' 
To-morrow  will  see  them  thrown  into  heaps,  and  left 
with  scarce  sod  enough  to  cover!  I  cannot,  will  not 


288          INEZ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

see  him  buried  so!  I  myself  will  lay  him  down  to 
rest,  if  Santa  Anna  claims  my  life  for  it  to-morrow  t 
I  have  caused  a  grave  to  be  dug  in  a  quiet  spot,  but 
I  cannot  bear  him  to  it  unassisted.  My  strength  is 
gone — I  am  well-nigh  spent :  will  you  help  me  to- 
night ?  They  will  not  miss  him  to-morrow,  and  none 
will  know  till  all  is  at  rest !  Sefiora,  will  you  come 
with  me  ?" 

"  Tell  me  first,  Inez,  if  it  is  he  who  brought  you 
here ;  who  acted  so  nobly  to  me,  and  bade  adieu  to 
you  but  two  days  since  ?" 

"Yes,  the  same!  will  you  refuse  to  assist  me 
now  ?" 

"  No,  by  our  blessed  Virgin !  I  will  do  all  an  old 
woman  like  me  can  do;  yet  united,  Inez,  we  shall 
be  strong." 

Wrapping  their  mantillas  about  them,  they  noise- 
lessly proceeded  to  the  Plaza.  Darkness  had  closed 
in,  and  happily  they  met  not  even  a  straggling  soldier, 
for  all,  with  instinctive  dread,  shunned  the  horrid 
scene.  They  paused  as  Sefiora  Berara  stumbled 
over  a  dead  body,  and  well  nigh  slipped  in  blood: 

"  Jesu  Maria!  my  very  bones  ache  with  horror! 
this  is  no  place  for  me.  Sefiorita,  how  will  you 
keep  the  body?  Oh!  let  us  make  haste  to  leave 
here!" 

"  Hush !  do  you  see  a  white  spot  gleaming  yonder  r 
Nay,  don't  clutch  my  arm,  it  is  only  my  handker- 
chief. I  laid  it  there  to  mark  the  place.  Come  on, 
step  lightly,  or  you  will  press  the  dead." 

With  some  difficulty  they  made  their  way  along 


INEZ  ;   A  TALE   OF  THE  ALAMO.  289 

the  damp,  slippery  ground,  now  and  then  catching 
at  each  other  for  support.  Inez  paused  on  reaching 
her  mark,  and  bent  down  for  several  moments;  then 
raising  herself  she  whispered : 

"  Sefiora,  I  have  wrapped  his  cloak  tightly  about 
him,  lift  the  corners  near  his  feet,  while  I  carry  his 
head.  Be  careful,  lift  gently,  and  do  not  let  the  cloak 
slip." 

Slowly  they  lifted  the  motionless  form,  and  steadily 
bore  it  away:  Inez  taking  the  lead,  and  stepping 
cautiously.  She  left  the  Plaza  and  principal  streets, 
and  turned  toward  a  broad  desolate  waste,  stretch- 
ing away  from  the  town,  and  bare,  save  a  few  gnarled 
oaks  that  moaned  in  the  March  wind.  The  moon 
rose  when  they  had  proceeded  some  distance  be- 
yond the  last  house,  and  Inez  paused  suddenly,  and 
looked  anxiously  about  her. 

"  Sacra  Dio!  I  trust  you  have  not  lost  your  way.' 
Holy  mother,  preserve  us  if  we  have  gone  wrong." 

"  I  knew  we  must  be  near  the  place :  it  is  under 
yonder  tree ;  fear  nothing,  Sefiora,  come  on :"  and  a 
few  more  steps  brought  them  to  the  designated  spot. 

A  shallow  excavation  had  been  made,  sufficient  to 
admit  with  ease  the  body  of  a  full-grown  man ;  and 
on  its  margin  they  softly  laid  their  burden  down. 
Every  object  shone  in  the  elear  moonlight,  and 
stranger  scene  never  moon  shown  upon.  A  dreary 
waste  stretched  away  in  the  distance,  and  sighingly 
the  wind  swept  over  it.  Inez  knelt  beside  the  grave, 
her  wan  yet  still  beautiful  features  convulsed  with 
the  secret  agony  of  her  tortured  soul ;  the  long  raven 


290  INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

hair  floating  like  a  black  vail  around  the  wasted 
form.  Just  before  her  stood  the  old  woman,  wierd- 
like,  her  wrinkled,  swarthy  face  exposed  to  full  view, 
while  the  silver  hair,  unbound  by  her  exertion, 
streamed  in  the  night  breeze.  Loosely  her  clothes 
hung  about  her,  and  the  thin,  bony  hands  were 
clasped  tightly  as  she  bent  forward  and  gazed  on 
the  marble  face  of  the  dead.  Wonder,  awe,  fear, 
pity,  all  strangely  blended  in  her  dark  countenance. 

Inez  groaned,  and  rocked  herself  to  and  fro,  as  if 
crushed  in  body  and  spirit.  She  could  not  lay  him 
to  rest  forever  without  the  bitterest  anguish,  for  in 
life  she  had  worshiped  him,  and  in  death  her  heart 
clung  to  the  loved  form.  Again  and  again  she  kissed 
the  cold  hand  she  held. 

"  Sefiorita,  we  must  make  haste  to  lay  him  in,  and 
cover  him  closely.  Don't  waste  time  weeping  now; 
you  can  not  give  him  life  again.  Have  done,  Sefio- 
rita Inez,  and  let  us  finish  our  work." 

"  I  am  not  weeping,  Senoral  I  have  not  shed  a 
single  tear;  yet  be  patient:  surely  there  is  yet  time." 

Inez  straightened  the  cloak  in  which  Frank  Bryant 
was  shrouded,  placed  the  hands  calmly  by  his  side, 
and  softly  smoothed  the  dark  hair  on  his  high  and 
noble  brow.  She  passionately  kissed  the  cold  lips 
once,  then  covered  forever  the  loved,  loved  features, 
and  they  carefully  lowered  the  still  form  into  its  last 
resting-place. 

They  stood  up,  and  the  old  dame  pointed  to  the 
earth  piled  on  either  side.  Inez  shuddered  and 
closed  her  eyes  a  moment,  as  if  unequal  to  the  task. 


INEZ;   A  TALE   OF  THE   ALAMO.  2QI 

Her  companion  stooped,  and  was  in  the  act  of 
tossing  forward  a  mass  of  earth ;  but  Inez  inter- 
posed: "  Sefiora,  softly!  I  will  do  this:  remember 
there  is  no  coffin." 

Fearfully  calm  was  her  tone  as  she  slowly  pushed 
in  the  earth.  There  was  no  hollow  echo,  such  as 
of  ttimes  rends  the  heart  of  the  mourner,  but  a  heavy, 
dull  sound  of  earth  crushing  earth.  Gradually  she 
filled  the  opening  even  with  the  surface,  then  care- 
fully scattered  the  remaining  sod. 

"  I  will  not  raise  a  mound,  for  they  would  tear 
him  up  should  they  know  where  I  have  lain  him." 
Inez  walked  away,  and  gathering  a  quantity  of  brown, 
shriveled  leaves,  and  also  as  much  grass  as  she  could 
draw  from  the  short  bunches,  sprinkled  them  on  the 
grave  and  along  the  fresh  earth. 

"  Think  you,  Sefiora,  they  will  find  him  here  ?" 

"  No,  no,  Sefiorita!  none  will  know  that  we  have 
buried  him.  But  the  night  is  already  far  gone,  why 
do  you  linger  ?" 

For  a  moment  longer  Inez  gazed  down  upon  the 
new-made  grave :  "  But  a  few  more  hours,  and  I 
shall  sleep  here  by  your  side ;  farewell  till  then." 

She  turned  away,  and  silently  they  retraced  their 
steps  to  the  town,  reaching  without  inquiry  or 
molestation  their  own  home. 


Vol.  6  M— Evans 


INEZ  J   A  TALE   OF  THE   ALAMO. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

"So  live,  that  when  thy  summons  comes  to  join 
The  innumerable  caravan,  that  moves 
To  the  pale  realms  of  shade,  where  each  shall  take 
His  chamber  in  the  silent  walls  of  death, 
Thou  go  not,  like  the  quarry  slave,  at  night 
Scourged  to  his  dungeon ;  but  sustained  and  soothed 
By  an  unfaltering  trust,  approach  thy  grave 
Like  one  who  wraps  the  drapery  of  his  couch 
About  him,  and  lies  down  to  pleasant  dreams." 

— Bryant." 

A  BRIGHT  day  in  April  drew  near  its  close,  and 
the  golden  rays  of  the  spring  sun  poured  joyously 
through  the  open  casement  into  the  chamber  of 
death.  Yes,  the  "  King  of  Terrors  "  drew  nigh,  and 
the  cold  damp,  which  his  black  pinions  swept  on, 
settled  upon  the  brow  of  Inez.  A  few  days  after 
the  massacre  at  Goliad,  a  raging  fever  crimsoned 
her  cheeks,  and  lent  unwonted  brilliance  to  the  large 
black  eyes.  Delirium  ensued,  and  wildly  the  unfor- 
tunate girl  raved  of  the  past — of  her  former  love,  her 
hopelessness,  her  utter  desolation.  The  dreamless 
sleep  of  exhaustion  followed  this  temporary  mad- 
ness; long  she  lay  in  the  stupor  so  near  akin  to 
death,  and  now,  consciousness  restored,  she  awaited 
in  silence  her  hour!  In  vain  the  kind-hearted 
Sefiora  entreated  her  to  see  a  priest — steadfastly  she 
refused  At  length  Madame  Berara  assumed  the 


INEZ  ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  293 

responsibility  of  calling  in  her  own  confessor,  and 
silently  quitting  the  room,  went  in  quest  of  him. 
Inez  suspected  the  cause  of  her  unusual  absence,  and 
too  feeble  to  concentrate  her  thoughts,  turned  her 
face  to  the  wall,  and  wearily  closed  her  eyes.  Yet 
one  hand  felt  along  the  cover  and  beneath  the  pil- 
low. For  what  was  she  searching  on  the  bed  of 
death  ?  The  thin  fingers  rested  on  a  small  and  well- 
worn  Bible,  and  a  tiny  package,  wrapped  in  paper 
and  carefully  tied.  The  sacred  volume  was  feebly 
pushed  beneath  her  head,  and  mechanically  she 
undid  the  knot,  and  drew  forth  a  glossy  lock  of  black 
hair.  Wearily  she  pressed  it  to  her  lips  several 
times,  and  again  folding  it  away,  her  hands  sank 
powerless  upon  her  bosom. 

Sefiora  Berara  re-entered  the  silent  chamber,  ac- 
companied by  a  priest,  clad  in  the  vestments  of  his 
order.  They  approached  the  bed,  and  the  aged 
dame,  bending  over  Inez,  whispered  audibly  : 

"  I  could  not  find  my  own  Padre,  but  I  bring  one 
who  will  confess  and  absolve  thee !  Make  haste  to 
prepare  for  heaven." 

"  I  want  neither  confession  nor  absolution!  Be- 
gone !  and  let  me  die  in  peace,"  she  answered,  with- 
out unclosing  the  lids,  which  lay  so  heavily  upon  the 
sunken  eyes. 

"  Leave  us  together!  I  will  call  thee  when  thou 
art  wanted,"  whispered  he  of  the  Order  of  Jesus. 
The  matron  immediately  withdrew,  repeating  an 
Ave  Maria;  and  they  were  left  alone. 

"Inez!' 


294  INEZ  »'  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

A  shudder  crept  through  the  wasted  form,  and, 
witL  a  start,  she  looked  upon  the  face  of  the  intruder. 
Even  in  death,  hatred  was  strong;  the  dim  eye 
flashed,  and  the  cold,  damp  lips  wreathed  into  a 
smile  of  utter  scorn: 

"  Well,  Padre,  you  have  tracked  me  at  last !  It  is 
a  pity,  though,  you  had  not  set  out  one  day  later; 
you  would  have  altogether  missed  your  prey !  But 
I  am  content,  for  I  am  far  beyond  your  reach !" 
She  gasped  for  breath,  yet  ghastly  was  the  mocking 
smile  which  lit  up  her  face. 

"  Not  so,  Inez !  you  escaped  me  once ;  I  have  you 
now!  You  have  defied  me  in  health;  but  in  death 
I  conquer.  You  cannot  die  in  peace  without  my 
blessing.  Remember,  remember,  one  sin  uncon- 
fessed  will  sink  you  into  everlasting  perdition! 
Think  you  I  will  absolve  you  ?  Never!  never!" 

"  What  brings  you  here  ?  Think  you  the  approach 
of  death  will  terrify  me  ?— that  I  shall  claim  your 
intercession  and  absolution!  Have  you  come  ho- 
ping to  make  a  bargain,  and  receive  my  order  for  a 
hundred  sheep,  or  as  many  cattle,  on  condition  that 
you  pray  me  out  of  purgatory  ?  I  tell  you  now,  if 
there  be  such  a  place,  you  will  surely  follow  me  ere 
long.  We  shall  not  be  separated  long,  my  godly 
Padre !" 

Large  drops  rolled  from  her  brow,  and,  gasping, 
she  continued  more  indistinctly: 

"  There  is  one  to  stand  between  us  now,  even 
black-browed  Death !  and  now,  as  I  speak,  I  see  his 
shadow  flung  over  me.  I  am  dying,  and  if  I  am 


INEZ  ;    A  TALE   OF  THE   ALAMO. 

lost,  you  are  to  blame!  you,  and  you  only!  You  a 
man  of  God !  You  forgive  my  sins,  and  give  me  a 
passport  to  heaven!  Padre,  I  know  you,  in  all  your 
hypocrisy,  and  I  know  that,  if  there  be  a  God,  you 
have  outraged  his  every  law!  You  have  led  me 
astray!  You  have  brought  me  to  this!  Padre,  I 
am  sinful,  full  well  I  know  it ;  for  this  is  an  hour 
when  the  barrier  which  hides  the  secret  soul  is 
thrown  down,  and  every  deed  and  thought  stands  up 
boldly  for  itself.  I  have  not  served  God !  But  oh ! 
I  would  not  change  places  with  you,  leader,  teacher, 
guide,  consecrated  priest,  as  you  are — for  you  have 
mocked  him !  Yes,  mocked  him !  set  aside  his  writ- 
ten word,  and  instead  of  Bible  truths  you  told  me  of 
Saints,  and  Relics,  and  Miracles!  You  bade  me 
worship  the  cross,  and  never  once  mentioned  Him 
who  consecrated  it  with  his  agony  and  blood !  In 
my  childhood  I  believed  your  legends  and  miracles, 
and  trusted  such  as  you  to  save  me.  A  dreadful 
curse  will  rest  upon  your  head,  for  you  came  in 
sheep's  clothing,  and  devoured  many  precious  souls, 
Padre,  I — I — "  In  vain  she  strove  to  articulate,  fur- 
ther utterance  was  denied  her.  The  ghastly  hue  of 
death  settled  upon  her  face.  She  lifted  her  eyes  to 
heaven  as  in  prayer;  vacantly  they  wandered  to  the 
face  of  the  Padre,  now  well-nigh  as  pale  as  her  own, 
then  slowly  closed  forever.  A  slight  quiver  passed 
over  the  lips,  a  faint  moan,  and  Inez  was  at  rest.  For 
long  her  wearied  spirit  had  cried  "  Peace !  peace !" 
and  now  she  laid  herself  down  and  slept  the  long, 
unbroken  sleep  of  death. 


296  INEZ  J   A  TALE   OF  THE   ALAMO. 

"  Oh!  you  have  yearned  for  rest, 
May  you  find  it  in  the  regions  of  the  blest." 

As  she  had  died  without  the  pale  of  the  church, 
they  refused  the  lifeless  form  a  narrow  bed  in  con- 
secrated ground.  Even  the  ordinary  service  for 
the  dead  was  entirely  omitted ;  and,  without  a  prayer, 
they  committed  her  to  the  silent  tomb.  The  kind 
old  dame,  remembering  her  grief  at  the  secret  burial 
of  her  noble  friend,  obtained  permission  to  lay  her 
by  his  side,  and,  with  the  fierce  bowlings  of  the  tem- 
pest for  her  funereal  dirge,  they  consigned  Inez — the 
proud,  beautiful,  gifted,  yet  unfortunate  Inez — to  rest. 
Peace,  Inez,  to  thy  memory,  and  may  the  sod  lie 
lightly  on  thy  early  grave ! 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

"  There's  a  bliss  beyond  all  that  the  minstrel  has  told, 
When  two,  that  are  linked  with  one  heavenly  tie, 
With  heart  never  changing,  and  brow  never  cold, 
Love  on  through  all  ills,  and  love  on  till  they  die  !'* 

— Moore. 

"  COME,  Florence,  put  on  your  bonnet;  we  land  in 
a  few  moments,"  said  Mr.  Stewart,  entering  the 
splendidly  furnished  saloon  of  a  Mississippi  steamer, 
where  she  sat,  book  in  hand.  Quietly  the  young 
wife,  for  such  she  now  was,  complied  with  his  re- 


INEZ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO.  297 

quest,  and  taking  her  husband's  arm,  they  advanced 
to  the  bow  of  the  boat.  It  was  a  bright,  sunny 
morning  in  early  May,  and  the  balmy  breath  of  the 
opening  summer  wafted  gladness  to  many  a  weary, 
aching  heart.  The  margin  of  the  river  was  fringed 
with  willow,  poplar,  cotton- wood  and  cypress,  the 
delicate  fresh  green  foliage  contrasting  beautifully 
with  the  deep  azure  sky,  and  the  dark  whirling 
waters  of  the  turbid  stream.  It  was  such  a  day  as 
all  of  us  may  have  known,  when  nature  wore  the 
garb  of  perfect  beauty,  and  the  soothing  influence  is 
felt  and  acknowledged  by  every  one  accustomed 
from  childhood  duly  to  appreciate,  admire,  and  love 
the  tair  and  numberless  works  of  God,  who, 


-"Not  content 


With  every  food  of  life  to  nourish  man, 
Makes  all  nature  beauty  to  his  eye 
And  music  to  his  ear." 

Florence  was  gazing  intently,  as  each  object  re- 
ceded from  her  view.  They  turned  an  angle  in  the 
stream  and  drew  near  a  landing  with  only  a  solitary 
warehouse  visible.  She  started,  and  her  clasped 
hands  resting  on  her  husband's  arm,  pressed 
heavily.  He  looked  down  into  the  flushed  face,  and 
said,  with  a  smile : 

"  Well,  Florence,  what  is  it  ?  Why  do  you  trem- 
ble so  ?" 

"  Mr.  Stewart,  I  can  not  be  mistaken;  this  is  my 
father's  old  landing !  Why  do  you  look  so  strangely^ 
Oh !  it'  you  knew  what  painful  memories  crowd  upon 


298  INEZ  ;   A  TALE  OF  THE   ALAMO. 

my  mind  you  could  not  smile  so  calmly!"  and  her 
voice  faltered. 

Laying  his  hand  tenderly  on  hers,  he  replied : 

"  You  once  asked  me  whereabouts  on  the  river 
my  plantation  was  situated.  I  evaded  your  ques- 
tion. You  are  aware  that  I  inherited  it  from  a 
bachelor  uncle.  He  purchased  it  from  your  father, 
and  to  your  old  home,  my  dear  Florence,  we  have 
come  at  last.  It  is  yours  again,  and  I  should  have 
told  you  long  ago  but  feared  you  might  be  impatient 
of  the  journey :  and  then  it  is  pleasant  to  surprise 
you." 

Ere  Florence  cauld  speak  the  mingled  emotions  of 
her  heart,  the  boat  stopped,  and  the  jangling  bells 
warned  them  to  lose  no  time. 

Mr.  Stewart  placed  her  on  the  bank,  and  beckon- 
ing to  a  coachman  mounted  on  a  large  heavy  car- 
riage, opened  the  door,  assisted  her  in,  and  then 
cordially  shaking  the  outstretched  hand  of  the  ser- 
vant, inquired  if  all  were  well  at  home  ?" 

"  Oh  yes,  sir!  all  well  except  your  mother.  She 
has  had  the  asthma,  but  is  better.  But  ain't  you 
going  to  let  me  look  at  your  wife?  You  put  her  in 
as  if  I  wan't  to  see  my  new  mistess." 

Mr.  Stewart  laughed,  and  opening  the  door,  bade 
Florence  look  out ;  she  threw  back  her  long  mourn- 
ing veil,  and  bent  forward;  their  eyes  met,  and 
both  started  with  surprise. 

"Isaac!" 

"Miss  Florry!  sure  as  I  am  alive!"  and  he 
grasped  the  white  hand  heartily. 


INEZ  ;   A  TALE   OF  THE   ALAMO.  299 

"  I  cannot  understand  this  at  all !  Isaac,  how 
came  you  here?" 

"  Why,  you  see,  when  the  plantation  was  sold,  we 
were  sold  with  it ;  that's  how  I  came  to  be  here." 

"  My  dear  Florence,  it  is  strange,  very  strange, 
that  I  never  once  thought  of  your  recognizing  the 
servants,  though  I  should  have  known  you  could  not 
forget  them.  In  what  capacity  did  Isaac  formerly 
serve?" 

"  He  was  always  our  coachman ;  and  many  a  ride 
in  childhood  I  owe  to  his  kindness  and  wish  to  make 
me  happy.  Isaac,  I  am  verygladto  see  you  again." 
And  her  smile  confirmed  her  words. 

Mr.  Stewart  took  the  seat  by  her  side,  and  was 
closing  the  door,  when  the  old  man  interfered. 

u  Miss  Florry,  I  know  old  master  is  dead — we 
heard  that  some  time  ago;  but  where  is  Miss  Mary  ? 
that  blessed  good  child,  that  never  gave  a  cross  word 
to  one  on  the  plantation.  Why  didn't  she  come 
home  with  you  ?" 

Florence  could  not  reply,  and  the  tears  rolled 
silently  over  her  cheeks. 

"  Isaac,"  said  Mr.  Stewart,  in  a  low,  saddened 
tone, "  Mary  has  gone  to  a  brighter  home  in  heaven ! 
She  is  happier  far  than  she  could  be  even  here  with 
us !  She  died  about  a  month  ago." 

There  was  a  pause,  and  then,  wiping  his  rough 
sleeve  across  his  eyes,  Isaac  slowly  said — "  And  Miss 
Mary  is  dead !  Well,  she  has  gone  to  heaven,  if  ever 
any  body  did !  for  she  was  never  like  common  chil- 
dren Many's  the  time  when  my  poor  little  Hannah 


3oo          INEZ;  A  TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO. 

was  burnt,  and  like  to  die,  that  child  has  come  by 
herself  of  dark  nights  to  bring  her  a  cake,  or  some- 
thing sweet  and  good!  God  bless  her  little  soul' 
she  always  was  an  angel !"  and  again  wiping  his  eyes 
he  mounted  the  box  and  drove  homeward. 

Ah !  gentle  Mary !  no  sculptured  monument  marks 
thy  resting-place!  No  eulogistic  sermon,  no  high- 
flown  panegyric  was  ever  delivered  on  thy  life  and 
death!  Yet  that  silent  tear  of  old  Isaac's  outspoke 
a  thousand  eulogies!  It  told  of  all  thy  kindness, 
charity,  love,  angelic  purity  of  heart,  and  called  thee 
"  Guardian  Angel  "  of  the  house  of  Hamilton. 

Night  found  Florence  sitting  alone  in  the  parlor 
of  her  old  and  dearly  loved  home.  The  apartment 
was  much  as  she  had  left  it  five  years  before,  and 
old  familiar  articles  of  furniture  greeted  her  on 
every  side.  She  sat  ddwn  to  the  piano,  on  which 
in  girlhood  she  had  practiced,  and  gently  touched 
the  keys  The  soft  tones,  waking  the  "  slumbering 
chord  of  memory,"  brought  most  vividly  back  the 
scenes  of  other  days.  Again  she  stood  there,  an  only 
cherished  daughter,  and  her  father's  image  as  he 
used  to  stand  leaning  against  the  mantle-piece,  rose 
with  startling  distinctness  before  her.  And  there, 
too,  stood  her  cousin,  with  the  soft  blue  eyes  and 
golden  curls  of  her  girlhood;  and  she  fancied  she 
heard,  once  again,  the  clear,  sweet  voice,  and  felt 
the  fond  twining  of  her  arms  about  her.  Long 
forgotten  circumstances  in  primitive  freshness 
rushed  upon  her  mind,  and  unable  to  bear  the  sad 
associations  which  crowded  up,  Florence  turned 


INEZ  ;   A   TALE   OF  THE   ALAMO.  3OI 

away  from  the  instrument,  and  seating  herself  on 
the  sofa,  gave  vent  to  an  uncontrollable  burst  of 
sorrow 

"  Oh  1  what  a  luxury  it  is  to  weep, 
And  find  in  tears  a  sad  relief  I" 

And  calmly  Florence  wept,  not  bitterly,  for  she 
had  had  much  of  sorrow  to  bear,  and  schooled  her 
heart  to  meet  grief  and  sadness.  Yet  it  was  hard  to 
come  back  to  her  cherished  home  and  miss  from  her 
side  the  gentle  playmate  of  her  youth,  the  parent 
she  had  almost  idolized,  and  feel  that  she  had  left 
them  in  far  distant  resting-places.  She  heard  her 
husband's  step  along  the  hall,  and  saw  him  enter — 
she  strove  to  repress  her  tears  and  seem  happy,  but 
the  quivering  lips  refused  to  smile.  He  sat  down, 
and  drawing  his  arm  around  her,  pressed  her  face 
to  his  bosom,  and  tenderly  said : 

"  My  mother  had  much  to  say,  after  my  long  ab- 
sence, and  I  could  not  leave  her  till  this  moment. 
My  own  heart  told  me  that  you  suffered,  and  I 
longed  to  come  to  you  and  sympathize  and  cheer." 

"  Do  not  think  me  weak,  Mr.  Stewart,  because  you 
find  me  weeping.  It  is  seldom  I  give  vent  to  my 
feelings,  but  to-night  I  am  overwhelmed  with  recol- 
lections of  the  past.  Oh !  now,  for  the  first  time,  I 
realize  Mary  has  indeed  gone  forever.  Mary!  Mary! 
my  heart  aches  already  for  you,  and  your  warm,  un- 
changing love !  Oh !  how  can  I  look  forward  to  the 
long  coming  years,  and  feel  that  I  shall  never  see  her 
again  ?" 


3<D2  INEZ  ;   A  TALE   OF  THE   ALAMO. 

"  Florence,  my  own  Florence,  I  would  not  have 
you  repress  a  single  tear.  I  know  how  sadly  altered 
all  things  are,  and  what  a  dreary  look  your  home 
must  bear.  All  I  ask  is,  that  when  you  feel  lonely 
and  unhappy,  instead  of  hiding  your  grief,  come  to 
me,  lay  your  weary  head  upon  my  shoulder,  and  I 
will  strive  to  cheer  you,  my  precious  wife!  Let 
nothing  induce  you  to  keep  aught  from  me — let  per- 
fect confidence  reign  between  us;  and  do  not,  for  a 
moment,  doubt  that  I  wish  you  other  than  you  are. 
The  past  is  very  painful  both  to  you  and  to  me,  and 
the  memory  of  Frank  and  Mary  constantly  saddens 
my  spirit.  Yet  we  will  look  forward  to  a  happier 
future,  and  strive  to  guide  and  cheer  each  other." 
He  kissed  the  broad  brow  as  he  spoke,  and  drew 
tighter  the  arm  which  encircled  his  wife,  as  though 
no  danger  could  assail  while  he  was  near. 

"  Of  late,  Mr.  Stewart,  I  have  wondered  much  how 
you  ever  learned  to  love  me ;  for  I  am  much  changed, 
and  in  my  girlhood  I  was  cold,  proud,  and  often  con- 
temptuous in  my  manner.  Ah,  Mary,  how  different 
from  you !  If  I  have  higher  aims  in  life,  and  purer 
joys,  I  owe  it  all  to  her,  for  she  led  me  to  love  the 
law  of  God,  and  exemplified  in  her  daily  life  the 
teachings  of  Christ !  But  for  her,  I  shudder  to  think 
what  I  should  now  have  been.  O  God,  I  thank  thee 
that  I  am  saved  even  as  a  burning  brand  from  the 
fire !  I  have  hope  of  happiness  on  earth,  and  at  last 
a  joyful  reunion  with  the  loved  ones  that  have  gone 
on  home  before  me.  And  you,  my  husband,  help 
me  to  conquer  myself,  to  break  down  my  pride,  and 


INEZ  ;   A   TALE  OF  THE  ALAMO  303 

to  be  more  like  Mary.     Oh  forgive  my  weakness, 
and  ever  love  me  as  you  now  do !" 

He  clasped  her  to  his  heart,  and  whispered — "  Fear 
not,  Florence,  that  I  will  ever  love  you  less!  I,  too, 
have  faults  which  you  may  be  called  on  to  excuse, 
yet  all  is  bright  for  us,  and  I  trust  no  common  share 
of  happiness  will  be  our  portion  through  life !" 

"  Oh,  sweet  reward  of  danger  past ! 

How  lovely,  through  the  tears 
That  speak  her  heart's  o'erflowing  joy, 

The  young  wife's  smile  appears. 
The  fount  of  love  for  her  hath  gushed, 

Life's  shadows  all  have  flown ; 
Joy,  Florence  !  thou  a  heart  hast  found 

Responding  to  thine  own  I" 


THE  END. 


University  of  California 

SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 

Return  this  material  to  the  library 

from  which  it  was  borrowed. 


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A     000  1 24  942     4 


